Project Mockingbird v2
by BlackMoonWhiteSky
Summary: Lyre was not like other girls; Lyre dreamed of building robots. - - - - Operation Designation: Project: Mockingbird; Objective: Creation of artificial N.B.E. units to be controlled by Military Personnel, currently only civilian subjects involved, through neurological links for the purpose of defending against possible attack. - - - - And then she did.
1. Of Silence and Fear

**Soo…This here's the first chapter of my rewrite, I hope you enjoy it. Please don't forget to review, I'd like to hear what you think. As you'll see, some parts are staying basically the same but I'm sure you'll notice some things are completely different. I'll have this story posted in both the movie section and the cartoons section in order to widen my possible viewing base. Anywho, thanks for all your support and patience, I hope you enjoy the story. ^_^**

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**Project: Mockingbird v2.0**

**Chapter 1: Of Silence and Fear.**

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***Set ten days before the second movie***

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The human female had not moved from her spot since they first deposited her there, that being a trial in and of itself, and Sunstreaker was surprised to note that her unwavering stare seemed to actually unnerve their sentry. He found himself wondering why.

Why did the mech seem so uncomfortable? She was small, organic, and inconsequential. Why was it _**so**_ disquieting for him, having her sit in silence, gaze trained on him and looking nowhere else, that the Decepticon had begun to leave for increasingly longer periods of time simply to avoid it? Sunstreaker hadn't really taken much note of it at first but after two weeks of the same thing, the pattern was obvious, it had gotten to the point that their sentry spent approximately three hours out of every twenty-four, the human measure of a day, actually watching them, and most of that during the human's recharge period.

His curiosity was such that he had begun to unconsciously send out a pinging inquiry to any open sources that would pick it up, so far he had gotten no reply. From anyone.

He grew more irritable by the nanosecond.

And then something surprising happened; the femme spoke. "It's because he's young," she glanced at him over her shoulder, "my guess, judging by his behavior and that of the others' towards him, is that he's not really a Decepticon. I think he must have been from a colony of Neutrals that were attacked and was captured at a young age; he retains his initial programming. It's why he feels guilt under my gaze." She rolled her shoulders to relax the muscles and turned to face him fully, he gave no response to her sudden statement nor even an indication of any life at all, and she shrugged before lifting her right hand to her throat. "Ein." The room was filled with the churning, mechanical sounds of transformation as her metal choker turned into a small Cybertronian and climbed onto the proffered hand. The being, Ein, released a muted chime of happiness and began to babble in a mixture of Sparkling talk and true Cybertronian, bringing a smile to the human female's face. "I'm glad you're alright too Ein, but look, I need you to focus. Can you do that for me?"

The Sparkling chirped an affirmative and settled more calmly into the palm that held it. "That's a good boy. Bring up the most recent medical scans please, then see if you can find me a rolling chair. We should have a good four hours before our delightful sentry returns with my noon-day meal; I'd like to get some repairs in before that happens."

Sunstreaker recoiled at that.

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_When told to picture one of the greatest intellects in North America, the image that comes to mind is not generally anything remotely similar to that of an older girl running full tilt down an empty alleyway with a very imposing man in hot pursuit._

_And yet…_

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There was hesitation; it took so long, in fact, that the question prompted again**.**

**:_Open File?_:**

**:Yes:**

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***Approximately two years previous, set a few days before the first movie opens.***

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It was dark, sometime past midnight perhaps, not that the girl running through the network of alleys and side streets really _**cared**_ one way or the other, except in the passing hope that the deeper shadows would better hide her form from the man chasing her down. She was pissed, scared but pissed; it was ridiculous as far as she was concerned, her other form could squish the man following her with no difficulties what so ever, but _**nooo**_, that body was several _**miles**_ away and she was stuck with her pathetic weakling body.

Not that her body was really _**weak**_ per say, but it was rather slight, at least she had several years of MMA under her belt, so it wasn't like she was defenseless or anything. But then again, the man had quite a few pounds on her, most of it seemed to be muscle, and, if the initial attempt at grabbing her was any indication, at least _**some**_ training in hand-to-hand combat. The reading level on her _pissed-off-'o-meter_, as her coworkers so kindly put it, was slowly rising towards the '_Eff this_' alert, at which point she would stop running and likely try to bludgeon the fool to death, hopefully with something other than her fists, as she really disliked having to deal with swollen hands. Luckily, before she reached that level, she turned a corner and found an alley with several doors that opened out into it. She paused for only a moment to stare incredulously at the, while obviously old still totally _**hot**_, yellow Camaro that was just sitting pretty in the middle of everything before she came back to herself with a lurch and began trying every door in sight.

"Well, shit." That was the only thing that really came to mind when she came to the sudden and rather unfortunate realization that every _damn_ _**door**_ available was _**locked**_. It would be okay, or… well at least not that bad, if it weren't for the fact that this particular alleyway was a dead end and the time she'd spent on checking the doors had allowed her pursuer to close the extensive gap she'd managed to make. Those extra pounds made a difference, even if they _**were**_ muscle. And she could tell by the sound of his footsteps that he would be on her in what felt like a matter of seconds. Her eyes raked the surrounding area, searching for somewhere, anywhere, to hide; they caught on the Camaro and she practically dove for the passenger door muttering a, "_Please be unlocked, in the names of all the deities, _**please **_be unlocked_." It was.

She pulled the door shut after her as quickly and quietly as possible, locking it behind her and then ducked onto the floor board, tucking her curled body as far underneath the dash as she could manage, thankful, for what would probably the first and last time, for her small build. She forced her body into stillness, or as close as she could get anyways, there was no stopping the occasional tremor from her abused legs and she winced at the thought of the cramps she would have tomorrow from the lactic acid build-up from pushing herself to outrun the _Brainless Behemoth_. A sudden angry growl had her whole body tensing, taut as a drawn bowstring.

Breath caught and eyes widened, her ears strained for even the slightest sound.

She heard several things, her own rapid and erratic heartbeat, a strangely pleasant buzzing hum from the car, the heaving breaths of _Sir Brainless Behemoth_, and his heavy, slightly faltering she noted with a cruel pleasure, footsteps as he checked the doors as she had done. He let out another growl and what sounded like a low curse in a language that sounded suspiciously like Italian as the car suddenly rocked slightly and she realized he was sitting on the Camaro's hood, grumbling. He stopped suddenly, releasing a low chuckle, and she heard his footsteps again, circling around to the car's driver's side and she felt her face pale with the realization that she had not thought to lock the car's other door. There was a sudden motion as the man yanked on the door handle and she winced in sympathy for the whine-like sound the car seemed to emit at his action; he circled the car and repeated the action on the other door, letting out what was definitely a curse when he found this door locked as well. He went back to sitting on the hood and she recognized the muted taps of a cell phone having its buttons pushed with extra viciousness.

There was a pause and then his voice filled the air, he was speaking the language that she was pretty sure was Italian at this point and then there was another pause and, to her surprise, she found that he was suddenly speaking English. "She got away, not much I could do, short of shooting her anyways, and I know better than to do that, no damaging the merchandise. Silas would have me killed for that." Her blood ran cold at that casual statement, not even the indignation of being '_merchandise_' could overcome the cold terror caused by the realization that this person was armed and, consequently, could have killed her at any time, still could kill her. "Look, the brat got away; can you just come get me? The girl ran like a bloody greyhound and I'm practically on the other side of the city now. I still don't see why we didn't just grab her at her home; it would have been much easier if you ask me… Yeah, I know you didn't, but you're also not the one she ran into the damn ground… Just come and get me already."

All the energy in her body evaporated, gone like smoke but without the lingering smell. They knew where she _**lived**_? Why were they after her to begin with? And that ever panicky thought, '_He could have killed me!_'

She listened with what felt like every atom in her body, heard as he shuffled impatiently from atop the Camaro's hood, heard as a car pulled up with the squeaky-screech of a vehicle in need of a brake pad change, heard as he got in with an exchange of unpleasant words and they left. And suddenly she was crying, sobbing so hard her body trembled and she had to gasp in each strangled breath until slowly, and quite without her noticing, the world faded from her view and she fell into an exhausted slumber.

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A flare of irritation**.**

**:No!:**


	2. Of Introductions and Confrontations

**So, here's chapter two of Project Mockingbird v2.0! Thank you to everyone who favorite/alerted this story, I hope you enjoy this new chapter. Tell me what you think! *smiles* I like to see that alert for a new review! Speaking of reviews…special thanks to Autobot-Bre for the lovely words of encouragement! Made me happy!**

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**Project Mockingbird: v2.0**

**Chapter 2: Of Introductions and Confrontations.**

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"-so I tell him to shove off and what does he do? He shoves _**me**_! The argument has, at this point, attracted the attention of his fellow Up-tights and before I know it the two of us are surrounded. That doesn't stop me from trying to sock him one in the face, mind, but one of his subordinates does, grabs my arm mid-swing and holds me back and everything.

"I still probably would have gotten him, his subordinate's grip was really weak and considering his general asshole-ness I think more than one of them would have happily watched me punch him, if some machine that one of the guys was carrying when he ran over hadn't suddenly gone off. It was made to read the radiation you guys give off and since I had a close-contact run-in with one of you, I was completely unaware of it at the time by the way, I sent the sensors a-shrieking. They all, understandably considering their jobs, decided to grab me.

"Before I knew it, I was wearing handcuffs and taking a nice long car ride." Lyre stopped working for a moment and gave a sharp wave of her hand, emphasizing the irritation she was feeling at the time. "I guess that's really where things began to happen for me, if I'd just ignored him… just walked away… well, I would never have met the Autobots. They've all been so nice to me, you excluded of course, I'd be very sad if I'd never met them."

Sunstreaker didn't care.

_**Primus**_ how he didn't care.

The femme, Lyre, she'd said her name was, he probably wouldn't be able to forget it even if he tried, and he _**would**_ try, had begun chattering unendingly at him ever since she had deemed it safe. Whether it was singing some song or thinking out loud or talking to him directly she just wouldn't shut up.

It was driving him crazy.

If he'd been a human male he probably would have been yanking his own hair out due to the agonizing frustration…

Okay…

Maybe not… but only because it would ruin his image, even as a human Sunstreaker would be immaculate when it came to his appearance. So no hair-yanking. No matter how annoying her constant prattle was.

He suddenly thought of Bluestreak.

Now _**there**_ was a pair. In their own way they'd probably be as infamous as he and Sideswipe. Or, Primus forbid, Skids and Mudflap. His spark shuddered convulsively at just the thought of it. He just wished she would shut up! How she completely missed the annoyed vibes he was sending out was beyond him, for she seemed sensitive enough when it came to the Decepticons.

In an effort to ignore the femme, Sunstreaker thought back to when she was first brought in. Now _**that**_ had been a sight.

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***Two weeks ago***

* * *

Sunstreaker was not a happy mech, in truth, if it weren't for the fact that he couldn't move he'd be ripping his Energon blades into the Decepticon that was currently acting as his prison guard with the savage delight that could only really come from his Bezerker mode, his Battle Rage, which he had been in for the last several days, ever since he was captured after making planet fall. He growled, engine rumbling unhappily as his sensors registered more Decepticons returning to this base of theirs, one of the signatures was new and he rightly inferred that the 'con was a fresh arrival.

The three 'cons headed in his direction and soon enough his audio receptors were picking up the frustrated screaming of an organic. "Listen to me you giant metal toaster! If you don't let go of me you _**will**_ regret it; I don't know who is behind this, but kidnapping me won't get you anywhere!" He could see them now and he realized that the furious organic was a femme, it amused him distantly, for all emotions not Rage were felt only distantly, to see her being held out at arm's length by only two fingers like she was diseased, though the Energon slowly leaking from the 'con's wrist joint suggested there was more to her treatment than her simply being a disgusting little squishy. "It's not like I'll help you with anything you're planning, and there's no one that will pay for my safe return if it's a ransom you want, so you'd best just let me go now."

The Decepticon holding her snarled and gave her a sharp shake, careful to not cause any _**real**_ damage to her. "Shut up femme. We know you've had contact with the Autobots, so I suggest you stop this annoying game and be a cooperative hostage."

Sunstreaker's attention perked at the faction name and he observed the female more closely, she was dangling limply from the hand clutching her but he could see her hands roaming lightly across the metal fingers holding her, seemingly searching for something. "I don't know what in hell you're talking about. Who or what are the Autobots? Is that some kind of terrorist group? I won't have any part of something like that I'll have you know."

"We have footage uploaded by Frenzy before he was off-lined of _**you**_ in the presence of the human charge of the Autobot Bumblebee, on your way to the holding place of the great Lord Megatron."

The femme grimaced slightly, an expression lost on the Cybertronians as they were so very unfamiliar with human emotional displays, and changed tactics. "Are you really so certain it's me? If what you're telling me about yourselves is true, and I don't believe for a second that it is, mind, then wouldn't any female human look the same to you? I'm sure we're all simply pathetic insects in your eyes. Am I right?" Her hands found what they were looking for and quickly dug into the finger joint, slipping between the metal plates and ripping at the delicate wires hidden underneath the armor. The Decepticon let out a piercing shriek and dropped the organic automatically, pulling his hand in to inspect the damage. Sunstreaker watched the femme fall, knowing she would die once she hit the ground, she was too high and was falling at the wrong angle to survive the landing, and the Decepticons didn't seem aware enough to catch her in time. Not that he cared.

She didn't scream, interestingly enough, though she did flail around a bit but even that was more than it first seemed as she angled her body to fall closer to the mech 'til she was sliding down the metal armor. The organic reached out and caught herself on the 'con's hip joint, letting out a small cry of pain as the metal dug into her soft flesh and her body made a dull thud of impact, she paused, hanging there for a moment to catch her breath, before shifting her weight and releasing her grip. She caught herself on the knee joint and repeated until she was sitting uncomfortably on the 'con's foot, she heaved a sigh of relief before shooting a glare up at the mech; slowly, a smile spread across her face, baring her teeth in a way that seemed vicious, and her gaze went to the sensitive wires peeking through the plating of the ankle in front of her.

Unsurprisingly, the mech gave a very femme-like squeal of pain, the pitch causing the organic to wince, and let out a long stream of curses in Cybertronian as he none-too-gently kicked her off. She merely grunted as she crashed through a large, luckily for her it was empty, wooden box and landed with the resounding slap of flesh on concrete.

She managed, with much difficulty, to pull herself up into a sitting position, leaving thin streaks of red wherever her hands touched; there was an awkwardness to her pose that Sunstreaker couldn't quite pinpoint and her movements were less fluid than even the clumsiest organics he'd seen so far, he suspected she was injured, though his audios had not picked up the tell-tale sound of cracking bones when she fell. He knew about this particular biological factoid only because the Hatchet had sent a data burst on the fragility of the indigenous life on this mud-ball planet the moment their, his and Sideswipe's, signals had been picked up.

He took in all of this without paying any specific attention to her, his battle programing making him hyperaware of all that was happening around him and causing him to automatically compile the gathered information into a usable form for possible use in battle. If only he could fight.

But he couldn't, so he observed, and he analyzed.

Much like the immobilized Autobot, the human simply watched as the mech jumped around shrieking in both anger and pain, there was a victorious grin on her face that she didn't even try to hide and she seemed to radiate a sense of satisfaction. "Now then," she purred, her voice was calm this time and held a humored lit that even Sunstreaker, who had never conversed with an organic before, and never intended to, could hear. The Decepticons turned to her with amusement and agitation and even some apprehension, depending on the mech, "if you're done acting like a little _**girl**_? I would be most appreciative if you would take me back, I have no interest in dealing with giant robots."

Every mech in the room bristled at the derogatory term, the one she was speaking to even more so, as the comment was directed towards him, and there was a low growl from all of them, even Sunstreaker, though his was heard as an angry engine and was mostly covered by the sounds from the others. The injured Decepticon took a large, menacing step towards her, clearly wishing to intimidate the femme and _**clearly**_ disappointed when she didn't even flinch, instead, her glare returned, stronger than ever. "We are _**Mechs**_, Organic, it would be wise for you to remember that."

She relaxed into a smile again and Sunstreaker briefly, distantly, wondered if she had a glitched processor the way her emotions kept flipping back and forth. "I don't care. _**Ro**_-_**bot**_. All I care about is the fact that I'm still here when I specifically remember telling you to release me." She paid special attention to the word that seemed to so anger the Decepticon, dragging it out for extra emphasis; Sunstreaker came to the conclusion that the human female was demented. That, or she was very, _**very**_ brave, and _**more**_ than a little stupid.

It was hard to tell with organics.

The Decepticon snarled and stomped his foot down harshly, literally only centimeters away from crushing her, causing her whole body to lift momentarily from the ground; she let out a surprised cry when her hands slipped, her body falling without the necessary support and her head making a sharp crack of contact with the cement. The femme lay sprawled out on her back for a moment, staring dazedly up at the roof far above her, it was enough time for the Decepticons to leave, even the mech acting as Sunstreaker's guard; since he couldn't move the mech's presence had only really served to annoy him, he supposed they thought the femme would do that for them and they could stop wasting the mech power on it. Her hands came up to her head and she groaned in pain, body relaxing. "_**Asshole**_." It was muttered weakly, but with as much vehemence as an audio receptor-splitting shout. "What in hell is going on around here? Am I alone at last?"

Sunstreaker would have snorted with distain, with the Decepticons gone his battle rage slackened off into something more manageable, allowing his other emotions to come forth, but he didn't want her to be even remotely aware of his existence. It seemed that she was both demented _**and**_ stupid if she was talking to herself and not picking up on the fact that she was to be a hostage, that was what was '_going on_' at the moment. He almost did to be honest, but she surprised him again when the thick metallic band around her neck unfolded into a small Transformer that stood on her chest and made a negative sound before chirping worriedly at her disheveled state.

"I'm alright, don't worry." She struggled up into a sitting position again, causing the small mech to scuttle down onto one of her legs, still chirping in concern; she paused to take a steadying breath before her eyes swept carefully over the room she was in. Her eyes landed on Sunstreaker and she gasped slightly, muttering something inaudible under her breath with a scowl, before heaving a sigh. "So, who're you?"

Even if he had intended to reply, which he hadn't, he would not have been able to because in that moment the small Cybertronian let out a warning chirp and returned to his other form. Not even a full second later their sentry returned and the femme began the pattern of behavior that would last for two weeks.

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_Life consists not in holding good cards, but in playing those you hold well. – Josh Billings_

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**:_File Accessed_:**

**:_Open File?_:**

This time there was no hesitation.

**:Yes:**

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Her cell phone ringing is what woke her up initially; trying to move is what woke her up completely.

"Oh _**man**_." She felt the pinpricks of pain burning into her brain from what felt like every nerve-ending in her body. Her feet hurt, her legs hurt, her back hurt, her head hurt, _**hell**_, even her _**eyes**_ hurt. She stifled a moan of agony as she shifted out from under the car's dash and literally pulled herself up onto the seat, her arms being perhaps the only thing that _**didn't**_ hurt, or at least, the thing that hurt the least, though the one from the side she'd slept on was a bit stiff.

Of course, by the time she'd actually managed to right herself the phone had stopped ringing. She didn't do anything for a long moment, simply sat and breathed, _**in and out**_, then she pulled her phone from her pocket and stared at it, waiting. Not a moment later the screen lit up with the name '_Gail the Tattle-tale_' with a picture icon. She smiled mischievously and thumbed the speaker button on the screen and placed the phone on the dash but didn't make a sound. There was a long moment of silence as she waited for the person on the other end of the line to realize that she'd picked up. The cold, brisk voice that emanated from her speaker caused her eyes to briefly flash with relief. "…Where are you?"

"Good to hear from you too, Abigail. Hey, have you stepped outside lately, it's lovely weather we're having. Would you believe that I'm in the hottest car I've ever seen in my _**life**_, at least, you know, personally? It's nice and sunny outside but not too hot. Do you know, I was almost kidnapped last night, it was great, the guy ran me all the way across town, had a gun too, didn't know that at first, but when I found out, I thought I was gonna die. There's a stiff breeze too, not break tree limbs stiff, but more 'you'll just have to resign yourself to a bad hair day' kinda stiff. Car's a slightly older model but it's in good condition, all it really needs is some TLC, a nice wash-down and a fresh paintjob and just a _**bit**_ of bodywork for the rust spots and it'll be good as new. It's not the perfect day by any means, don't get me wrong, but I've definitely lived through worse. He even _**wanted**_ to shoot me, I could tell by his tone of voice, it was probably 'cause I made him look like an absolute fool, I mean-"

She spewed the words with barely a pause for breath and had been completely ignoring the calls of, "…Nightingale. Nightingale. Nightingale! 'Gale! _'Gale!_" that had been getting progressively louder the longer she spoke until Abigail finally shouted loud enough that the phone's speakers cut out partially. "_**Lyre Ann Nightingale! Shut up!**_" She did. "_**Thank you**_. Now, let's try this again, where are you?"

"In a seat."

"Okay… Can you be a bit more specific?"

"In a car."

"And that car is where?"

"In an alley."

Abigail paused, clearly reigning in her temper. "…Care to elaborate on that?"

"Well, it's kinda in the middle, see, I can tell because there's about the same amount of space on both sides and-"

"_**Lyre!**_"

"…I have absolutely no _**freaking**_ idea."

"…" There was a heavy sigh from the other end of the phone and a small click sound indicating that she had been put on speaker. That, or Abigail had hung up on her. "Why don't you start from the beginning; I think that would be the best course of action." Oh, nope, she's still on the phone.

"Okay. Someone tried to kidnap me last night…" She stopped, waiting for a response, there were gasps from the background, suggesting that, yes, she _**was**_ on speaker.

"And?"

" '_And?_' What do you mean? '_And?_' That's not how a best friend should respond to such things. You're supposed to be frantic, out of your mind with concern. You shouldn't be asking '_And?_' You should be all, '_Oh my gosh, are you alright? He didn't hurt you did he? Are you scared? Don't be scared. Everything will be alright, we'll get him. Don't you worry; he won't get away with this._' You shouldn't be asking, '_And?_' I mean, geez, why am I friends with you again?"

"…That is one of the great mysteries of the universe, right along-side with '_What killed the dinosaurs?_' And as for comforting you, you seem to be doing well enough on your own, took the words right out of my mouth and everything. But anyways, back to your report?"

"…Did you just act sarcastic? Were you just being sarcastic? Guys, please tell me I don't have a head wound I'm not aware of, was she just being sarcastic? _**Icy**_ Abigail Drake?" Lyre's grin was wide enough that it looked like it would split her face into two. There were sounds of surprised confirmation from the phone as the others chimed in.

"Lyre, seriously, what's your report?" There was a testiness to Abigail's voice, suggesting that she was no longer amused with Lyre's behavior.

"…Fine." And so, give her report she did, although there was simply no stopping the sarcasm and snark that seemed to pour forth from her brain like a flood and all-in-all her friend seemed to pay it no mind, but then again that could have something to do with the many years of practice she had under her belt. "-and next thing I know my phone is ringing and I realize I fell asleep in the Camaro."

"So, let me get this straight." It was a male voice coming from the speakers now, one that caused her heart to flutter and brought a scowl to her face. "You, that's _**you**_ mind, the reigning queen of violence and anger, the person who has a freaking _pissed-off-'o-meter_ posted outside of her office so that there's some kind of warning system set up to indicate what your temper is like at that moment, the chick that takes the term _**confrontational**_ to a whole new extreme? You expect us to believe that you _**ran**_ from a fight? A fight you didn't even cause in the first place? You _**do**_ see where I'm having problems with this tale, don't you?"

She growled in annoyance, scowl deepening. "Hey, Johnson, how about you shove it where the sun don't shine and let the adults go back to talking? Sound good?"

"Oh please, since when did _**you**_ qualify as an _**adult**_? Your maturity level is somewhere alongside a grade-schooler's. You're a brat."

"_**Johnson**_!" Abigail was ignored.

"Oh yeah Tony? Well at least I'm not a _**bitch**_."

"_**Lyre**_!" And again her admonition went thoroughly unheeded.

"Hey, you want to say that to my _**face**_?"

"_**Happily**_!"

"_**That's it**_! Johnson, get out of here! You aren't helping matters. And as for you Lyre, you and I are having a talk when you get in about this thing called _**professionalism**_!" And there was a rather decisive click and the line went dead.

There was silence for a very long moment as Lyre simply stared at her cell phone blankly, almost as though she didn't quite register what had just happened, and then she let out a vicious snarl and slammed her fists down onto her thighs. She repeated the action several times before she seemed to realize what she was doing and stopped, clamping her white-knuckled hands around her knees instead. She gasped, much as she had the night before, and began to cry, which only served to make her that much angrier, her fingernails digging into her bare knees in a vain attempt to control herself. And to stop her shaking. "…Damn it all. …Damn it! …Damn-it-damn-it-_**damn-it**_!" She nearly shot through the roof when her phone started ringing again, her teary eyes turned towards it but she didn't pick it up. It cycled through twice before she got fed up and answered; her voice came out sounding rather strangled from both her frustration and her tears. "_**What**_!"

"…Are you alright Lyre?" It was Abigail, her voice was no longer angry and reproachful as it had been at the end of that disaster of a call, instead it was soft and soothing. Lyre fought back another wave of tears.

She almost didn't answer, she didn't want to talk about it; she almost hung up then and there, but she knew that wouldn't solve anything. "…I'm fine."

"…Is that so?" A mental image of Abigail giving her a deadpan stare with one eyebrow raised in disbelief tore a halfhearted chuckle from her throat. "Because I know you, Lyre. I know how you think and how you act and, more importantly in this instance, I know how you _**react**_. What I know about you leads me to believe that you are not, in point of fact, _**fine**_."

"…I was scared." Her voice was small, like an uncertain child's, and her tears sped up slightly; she bit her lower lip to try to stop her voice from wavering. "I was scared. Okay? I didn't know what was going on, just that some random guy was suddenly after me and then I found out that he had a gun and I was even _**more**_ scared. How pathetic is that? Big, bad Lyre Nightingale was so scared that she _**cried**_. I can hear what they'll be saying about me already."

"Yeah?" That voice, normally so cold, had affection and comfort hidden within its tones. "Well, let them say what they want, they don't know anything about you. As for being scared, it's a perfectly normal reaction to a situation like that. I'd be concerned if you _**weren't**_ scared. Like, send you to a _**psychiatrist**_ concerned." Lyre snorted in choked laughter, imagining how well _**that**_ would go over. "Yes, my thoughts precisely. Now then, what was it you said? '_Everything will be alright, we'll get him_. _Don't you worry; he won't get away with this_.' That's it right?"

"Yep. That's what I said." Her tears had slowed and she smiled slightly.

"Well then, everything will be alright, we'll get him. Don't you worry; he won't get away with this. But you know, I could use your help with it. A picture would make it much easier; do you think you can hack the nearby surveillance feeds to get a still frame that we can run through Interpol's facial recognition?"

This time she laughed in full, tears finally stopping altogether as she sat a little straighter in the seat. "Is that a genuine question or were you trying to be funny?"

"Good. You come straight to the office, I know you have an overnight bag hidden in your lab, and we can get this straightened out before lunch time."

"Oh, this is why I'm friends with you, now I remember. Thanks 'Gail."

"You're welcome 'Gale."

She laughed again.

* * *

***Two Days Later***

* * *

So, it took a bit longer than lunch and it turned out to be slightly more problematic than just some random guy trying to abduct Lyre. In fact, it turned out that the facial recognition had a big red flag on him, as in a 'related to the mafia' kind of big red flag. What was more alarming, however, was the fact that she couldn't find anything at all connected to the name she had caught, 'Silas', but she wasn't really thinking about that at the moment. No, she was thinking about the creeper in the front seat of the black SUV she was currently sitting in. The creeper who was talking to the two teenagers that were sitting next to her. The creeper that she _**really**_ wanted to hit.

"So, uh… LadiesMan217, that is your eBay username, right?" Lyre snorted in amusement and glanced at the poor soul that was currently being humiliated in front of the girl he so very _**obviously**_ liked; he reminded her of a puppy, or maybe a gerbil, something small and fuzzy and generally helpless anyways. He was quite clearly panicking.

"Yeah, b-but you know, it was a type-o… and I ran with it." The girl did not seem impressed with his stumbling recovery.

"You know." It was clear that Lyre was amused; her voice held suppressed laughter in it and she spoke in a slow, slightly mocking drawl, her southern accent rearing its head. "You would have done better to say that one of your friends pulled a prank on you while you were making your account and you just didn't notice it until it was already finalized. I mean, nobody would actually _**believe**_ you, mind, but at least you'd get some points for creativity."

"What do you make of this?" She made a face at the creeper who was simply talking over her as though she hadn't spoken at all; her urge to hit him was steadily climbing the longer she was in the car with him. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, that sounds like LadiesMan." There was a frustrated tone to the girl's voice but Lyre didn't notice that, she was too busy listening to the recording that was playing and she felt her eyebrows lift in surprise. His car was _**alive**_? What exactly did he mean by that? She was brought from her thoughts when they started up this weird fake laughter that made her grimace in distaste.

And then the creeper spoke. "So what do you kids know about aliens, huh?"

"Oh, you mean, like a Martian? Like what, _**E.T.**_? No."

"It's an urban legend."

"Oh? And what about you girlie? What do you know about aliens?"

It took Lyre a moment to realize that he was talking to her but when she did she gave him one of her '_dangerous_' smiles. "What I _**know**_, McCreepy, is that if you seriously just put me in handcuffs and hauled me away because of _**aliens**_ you are _**so**_ freakin' screwed. And aside from Mr. Iceman, whom you have chilling out in your basement, I don't know a _**thing**_ about aliens." It was interesting to watch as he turned an off shade of white from shock and horror. "As for coming into contact with them? Yeah. As if. I mean, I'd _**sooo**_ go down to have a little one-to-one with Mr. Iceman if talking to giant robotic popsicles was my thing. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your view, it's not, they're rather poor conversationalists you see, so it's safe to say that _**no**_, I have not chatted up any aliens of late."

The longer she spoke the more freaked he got, understandable, considering the fact that he didn't know who she was or how she had access to classified, _**highly**_ classified, information like that. Next thing she knew, he had whipped out his _I-can-do-whatever-I-want-and-get-away-with-it_ badge and was threatening the girl's father with a life sentence in prison. Lyre had one thought: '_Yeah, I __**really **__want to punch him_.'

And then the world erupted in an explosion of glass.

* * *

**:_File End_:**

A flare of irritation, like before, but tinged ever so slightly with…amusement? Curiosity.

**:_Open Next File?_:**

**:No:**

**Not right now.**

The consciousness drifted elsewhere for the time being.


	3. Of Plans and Sparklings

**So, here's chapter three! *grins* Anywho, thanks to those that favorited/alerted. And special thanks to ontuva and Autobot-Bre for the reviews!**

**So, without further ado, Chapter 3. Don't be afraid to tell me what you think!**

* * *

**Project Mockingbird: v2.0**

**Chapter 3: Of Plans and Sparklings.**

* * *

Sunstreaker was disgruntled, the human was talking incessantly at him, seemingly determined to get a response out of him, he had no interest in doing anything of the sort. She was not in the least bit discouraged by this. "Ein, bring up the full diagnostics on our…friend here, find out how deep that damage goes." If she was frustrated by the work she'd done on repairing him being undone during the Decepticons' latest interrogation session she showed no signs of it. "And try to figure out how we're going to deal with _**that**_." It was clear what she was talking about, '_that_' being the obviously foreign object attached to the car's hood. There was an agreeable chirp from the little bot before it climbed carefully up onto Sunstreaker, much to his displeasure, and began scanning him, he could tell because he felt the tell-tale crawling across his sensors.

After a few moments Ein chimed his 'Eureka!' sound and climbed back onto her knee. "Alrighty then, let's see what we've got. Shall we?"

She was silent then, much to his relief, occasionally letting out a brief hum of thought, as she read Ein's report. Sunstreaker had learned, it was one of the things she'd spewed at him, that she had primitive, advanced for her species, artificial lenses '_heads-up display contacts_' that she wore on her eyes which the little Autobot used to communicate with her. She frowned, glanced up at the silent 'bot then focused back on the display, and again, and twice more. There was a rather peculiar look on her face, not that Sunstreaker would be able to tell. "…Huh. I recognize this internal makeup… I think I know who you are. If I'm _**right**_… then I'm pretty sure that those Decepticons _**don't**_ know who you are." Why she hadn't made the identification before was puzzling, she suspected it had something to do with her earlier state of shock and then of course she'd been focused on the damage itself and had not fully taken the information in.

"If you are who I think you are, and I'm fairly certain that you are, then I'll try not to hold it against you." She grinned cheekily. "Going by your color scheme, I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that you're the Sunshine twin. I've heard some _**very**_ bad things about the twins Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, but considering the source…I tend to take everything with a grain of salt. After all, Ratchet never seems to have _**anything**_ good to say, his really weird way of showing that he cares if you ask me, at least, you know, for the most part, and Ironhide is pretty easy to irritate, personally I think he's just crotchety."

He stiffened in shock, every part of him locking up.

She knew who he was, not just _**what **_he was but _**who**_. She knew about his twin, his other half. She knew about the Autobots; specific, intimate knowledge about individual Autobots. The question was how. And why.

She was opening her mouth to speak again when Ein let out a warning trill and suddenly returned to his hiding place, wrapped around her neck. Lyre went silent and carefully lowered herself back so that she was lying on the ground, where she'd been the last time the 'cons had checked on her; she tucked her wrapped up hands carefully behind her head and stared at the ceiling with a rather blank look on her face. A moment or two later the doors opened and a Decepticon entered.

Sunstreaker's processor immediately switched to battle mode.

Lyre… Lyre had a slightly different reaction. She took one look at the 'con and laughed, quietly and under her breath, but still a laugh.

If a giant mechanical alien could look sullen… well, that's how she would have described him; everything about him, from the way he walked to the expression on his face, made him look like an unhappy child having to do something he didn't want to do. It was really quite funny.

The mech came stomping up to her and she smiled brightly at him. "Yes? Can I help you?"

He scowled in response and folded his arms. "You have to come with me."

She stared for a moment in silence before letting out a quiet chuckle when she realized that he didn't want to touch her, his body language said as much. She shook her head and squirmed slightly, as though settling deeper into her position. "I'm afraid I can't do that, you see, I am _**quite**_ comfortable where I am and I would be _**loath**_ to have to get up. You'll have to come back later."

There was silence for a moment as he processed the fact that she had just said _**no**_ and his scowl and glare deepened. "That was not a request."

'_So easy._' Her smile changed as she gave him the same look a parent gives their child when they figure out that two plus two equals four for the very first time. "You're right, it wasn't. I'm glad you could tell the difference. Sometimes, when I don't speak with a forceful enough tone, people don't realize that I'm not giving them an option. It's such a pain always having to clarify. You know what I mean?"

The Decepticon growled.

She pretended not to notice.

"And what's up with coming to get me anyways? You kidnap me, accuse me of being someone I'm not, someone I've never even _**heard**_ of, mind, threaten me, dump me in here, almost kill me with stupidity, give me free _**flying**_ lessons," Never mind the fact that she was just as much at fault for that one, "leave me by myself and ignore me over two _**weeks**_, and then all of a sudden you're back and telling me I have to go somewhere _**else**_? Yeah… That doesn't work for me. Sorry." Her tone had gotten progressively more irate the longer she spoke and by the end of her little rant her face was twisted into what could only be called a pout.

The Decepticon growled again. Louder this time.

"Huh, you know… the look on your face reminds me of the expression my uncle," Lyre didn't really have an uncle, but they didn't need to know that, "used to get whenever he was really annoyed with me, only his whole face would go this odd purplish color and the corner of his right eye would start to twitch. Something to do with his blood pressure apparently… Say, can your eye twitch too or is that a human thing?"

The 'con looked about ready to kill her. Sunstreaker was pretty annoyed himself; though now that he realized that she was doing it on purpose he was also _**slightly**_ amused, by the most minuscule amount, but mostly just annoyed. He'd have to remember to show this memory file to Sideswipe; _**he**_ was sure to get a big kick out of it.

The 'con had had enough. With an angry snarl he reached down and scooped her up with a jerk. "Hey! Watch it! I'm fragile I'll have you know!"

"I am aware of your malfunction."

For some reason that Sunstreaker could not understand this statement caused her to become silent. Though her anger was clear. Very clear. When she spoke this time it was with a calm, clipped coldness that actually shocked him. "_**Shut**_._** Up**_." It was the most serious he had yet seen the femme and it was… disconcerting to say the least.

The Decepticon actually appeared nervous as he looked at anything but her eyes, which was ridiculous considering their size differences. He carried her out of the room and into another portion of warehouse.

After a long moment of silence she let out a sigh and asked in a tired voice. "Where are we going?"

"Sideways requires your presence." A sneer crept into his voice as he spoke of his fellow Decepticon. "The aft fancies himself our leader whenever our _**real**_ leader is gone. That's not including Megatron of course. Not even he is that stupid. Unfortunately he's pretty powerful, it would waste too much Energon fighting him and there's no guaranty we would win. It's easier to just indulge him for now, when Megatron returns that big head of his will get him into trouble. And I will happily watch as he has a limb or two ripped off."

He went quiet after that and, as she didn't really feel like starting a new conversation, she kept her mouth shut as well.

They arrived in a room that had three other Decepticons and not much else. Lyre could tell who Sideways was even before she was handed to him; he had an arrogant expression on his face while the other two looked distinctly more irritated. He looked down into her disgruntled face and let out a condescending chuckle. "So… you're the little organic causing all the problems." She held her tongue in check, keeping silent only because she knew there would be a perfect moment and she wanted to utilize it to its fullest. "Do you know who I am?" His tone clearly stated that she was a moron if she didn't.

'_There it is_.'

She had to work to keep the smirk off her face. "Oh, cours' ah do." She played up her natural southern accent, pausing to let him soak in his own ego for a moment to make sure her words were at their most effective. "You're the empty-headed, arrogant aft who's going to receive a pounding from Megatron for your self-righteous attitude whenever he puts in an appearance. Sideways, right? It's so very nice to meet you, my name's Redd. Redd Harrington." There was dead silence before he suddenly let out a threatening growl and his eyes darkened to an almost violet color, the grip on her ribs was suddenly much tighter.

She just barely managed to keep her face clear of pain.

When she realized that his glare had shifted to the 'con that brought her here she forced a grin onto her face. "Hey now, what'cha glarin' at him for? I've met several Decepticons, _i__t's Decepticons, right_?_ That's what you called yourselves_? in the past hour of my life. That you automatically assume, _you know what they say about that_, that it's the one I was most recently in contact with just proves how empty your big head really is."

"If it was not he, then who was insolent enough to dare say such things?" The dark tone in his voice left no room for her nonsense.

Not that that affected her in the slightest.

"Hmm… you know… I can't seem to recall. All you giant _**robots**_ look the same to me." The room was filled with an angry rumble as they once again reacted to the derogatory term. She yelped involuntarily in pain when the grip around her ribs tightened considerably, any more pressure and they'd give way. As it was the almost burning pain that persisted even when his grip loosened slightly suggested at least one of her ribs was cracked.

"Do you wish to be off-lined Organic? You persist most foolishly."

She struggled to force a smile, though it came out more like a grimace. "Actually, I think you're just homicidal but whatever. What can I say? I have some unresolved issues."

Sideways sneered at that but decided that if he was going to get anything done he would have to move on. So he explained the situation to her.

And then he made a call.

* * *

***With the Big Man***

* * *

When Optimus answered the Decepticon communication he was not quite expecting what he saw. Decepticons, yes, but not Lyre looking a little worse for the wear. Her hair and clothing were disheveled, her face paler than usual, her eyes were dark with anger and what he realized was a touch of fear, and when her hands moved so that he could see he observed that both had bandages across the palms that were streaked with dried blood. She interrupted him before he could speak. "I have a _**message**_ for an Optimus Prime. Are you him?"

He stalled for a moment before his processor caught up with what was going on. "I am."

"Oh good." She sighed and smiled brightly. "My name is Redd Harrington. Along with an... Autobot, was it? Sorry, I need a little time to get used to all these strange terms, I get confused. I'm working on it though. Anyways, along with some Autobot, pretty messed up looking by the way, I have been kidnapped by a group of… beings calling themselves Decepticons. They seem to be under the impression that I'm some chick named Lyre, who names their kid after an instrument anyways? They said that if we want to get out of here you're going to have to give them something called an Allspark fragment that was taken from a dead Megatron's chest. I know I don't know you or anything but I'd_** really**_ like to go home so if you can help me-"

Suddenly the screen shifted and he was faced with a Decepticon he recognized, his optics narrowed. "Sideways."

"You have one Earth day to decide Optimus." He caught the barest glimpse of Lyre being carried away before Sideways cut the transmission. He turned to face William Lennox, who had stayed out of view, after shutting down his side of the link.

"You get all that big guy?"

"Indeed. Lyre is imprisoned with an injured Autobot; she can repair him so that they may escape but needs us to stall for time."

"Yeah, that's about what I got out of it. The girl's pretty smart, she can probably pull it off too; think they believe that she's someone else? This Redd Harringto-" He stopped. And then he laughed. And then he explained to the confused leader of the Autobots what a red herring was.

Optimus allowed himself a brief chuckle before becoming serious again. "I do not think they care one way or another. As a human, she is someone we Autobots have sworn to protect. They can use her no matter who she is."

"So… What are we going to do?"

"We do exactly what she has asked of us. We will stall for time."

* * *

***Forty-five Minutes Later***

* * *

"Damn it Sunstreaker! Let me in!" There was warning in her tone, frustration. This time when she tried the door it opened, for a moment she hoped… she barely managed to pull her fingers back before it slammed shut again. "You listen to _**me**_ you obsessive-compulsive, narcissistic, obnoxious, pain-in-the-aft! Ya don' have a whole lotta options here! I know the last thing you wan' is for me to be crawlin' around your interior, and I've been avoidin' it up 'til now for jus' that reason but our situation has changed.

"That walkin', talkin' scrap heap known as Sideways has made contact with Prime and has given him a _**week**_ to retrieve an Allspark fragment to trade for us." He caught something that she, in her anger, did not, the fact that she'd said '_an_' Allspark fragment, not_ 'the_' Allspark fragment. "Obviously we need to leave before then." Her temper had sparked and she was using that unnervingly cold and flat tone he'd heard only once before, though it would occasionally fluctuate to a more flaring quality, and her accent had thickened considerably.

It would take a bit more time dealing with her before he would be able to recognize the signs of her fear.

Because… Lyre had been held captive before, though not by beings such as these and not at all recently, in fact, not since she was a small child. And she was _**very**_ afraid. The trauma of the incident back then explained her fear now, her terror, but that terror was locked away for the time being, she had let it control her long enough. It had been her terror which had kept her unmoving in the beginning; only her need to survive had pushed it aside and allowed her to lay down a plan. And it was just that need that was currently pushing her to do what some Autobots would, rightfully, claim to be impossible.

"Look, you want to get away from here, right? You want to be reunited with your twin." It was a low blow on her part, but necessary; Sunstreaker's spark ached. He could still sense his other half, but it was faint, _**weak**_, he might as well be a universe away. "You cannot repair yourself; at the moment you're one dent away from a catastrophic system's failure. You, whether you can admit it or not, _**need**_ me. And I need a good night's sleep if I'm to function at my best; that would be patching you up as fast as possible, f.y.i." She placed a hand on the door's handle once again. "Your interior is the most comfortable location available, sorry but it's true. If it makes you feel any better, I _**swear**_ to help you fix yourself back up once we get out of here." This time the door opened, though Lyre felt almost as if she was peeling it open inch-by-inch, and stayed open. _**Reluctantly**_. Very reluctantly.

She pulled herself inside.

* * *

_We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be. – Kurt Vonnegut_

* * *

**:_Memory File Accessed_:**

**:_Open File?_:**

**:Yes:**

**:_Error_:**

**:_Partial File Encryption_:**

**:_Proceed Anyways?_:**

Puzzlement.

Hesitation.

**:Yes:**

* * *

***Project Mockingbird Headquarters***

* * *

Abigail Drake was called the Ice Queen for a reason, her unwavering control over her emotions often gave the illusion that she actually had none, but that's just what it was, an illusion. This moment was no different from any other; she stalked through the workshops with her usual sharp precision, showing nothing but calm professionalism while her friend was M.I.A. But she wasn't calm, oh no, she was worried, very worried; her best, truest, and quite possibly only friend was missing and she had no idea where she might be. Cell and landlines had inexplicably gone down hours ago so she had no way of contacting Lyre to make sure that she was alright, that she was safe, and that made her very, _**very**_ concerned. It didn't help that she knew her friend was suffering from the trauma of the incident from a few days ago.

Lyre was an inherent liar.

It was that simple.

She pretended to be fine; she was rude and abrasive and sarcasm seemed to just pour forth from her brain without thought. Abigail recognized her behavior for what it _**really**_ was though, a coping mechanism, a defense protocol; the angrier Lyre appeared, the more she was feeling _**helpless**_. Hurt, lost, afraid, alone, all of her negative emotions caused the same response, she reacted the same way every time, violently. Her snark was a part of her daily behavior, yes, but that was because she used it like a shield, keeping people at arm's length, keeping them from getting under her skin. Keeping herself from making a connection.

Because she was _**afraid**_.

Because she knew, better than most people, the pain of losing someone important to her. She saw it as dangerous, the giving a part of herself away to someone else. Life was unpredictable, uncontrollable, there were situations she couldn't plan for, contingency plans she couldn't make. And as far as she was concerned, that simply meant an ending of pain and loss that she wasn't ready to deal with.

* * *

**:_Information Encrypted_:**

**:_Proceed To Unencrypted Data?_:**

**:Yes:**

* * *

_Abigail could still remember the day Lyre's parents died, would probably remember that day 'til the day __**she**__ died, it had been the day that Project Mockingbird had __**really**__ been born. The Project had just been an idea before then, something they had concocted after they hacked into Abigail's father's computer, he worked for the government and they were going through their teenage rebellion phase where any withheld information was a personal affront. It was just his luck that one of them was a skilled hacker, and they found a file giving the detailed specifications of an alien robot, or N.B.E. 1, that was in forced cryostasis at the Sector Seven headquarters in the Hoover Dam. They immediately had the same thought, _they were going to build a robot_, so they did. It was to be smaller than the one from the file, under half that size, and they weren't anywhere near done when the accident happened._

_Lyre never talked about it, about what she saw during the car crash but whatever it was had left her with a deep rooted fear of things out of her control. Once she had recovered from her concussion and broken arm she had immediately started working on the robot at an unhealthy pace, forgoing sleep and even food at times, she literally lived in the lab. And she told Abigail that the robot would be different from others being developed elsewhere, that it wouldn't function based on programs, it would operate as a second body, only functioning when it received commands directly from her mind._

_They failed at first._

_A twitch here, a thrum there, but nothing truly noteworthy._

_Until they came up with the Link-In system._

_Abigail had been terrified by the results of that event, they had turned it on and she had watched in awe as the robot's optics flickered on and it, no, **Lyre**, sat up and looked around, she had glanced at Lyre's human body and panicked when she realized that Lyre's chest wasn't moving. She reached over and ripped the Link-In system from Lyre's head, and Lyre had shot up, screaming an absolute **agony** as she was forced back into her own body._

_That was the day they realized that their Link-In system created a complete transfer of consciousness. It was also the day that Lyre stopped aging._

* * *

**:_Unencrypted Data Located_:**

**:_File Resumed_:**

* * *

***Back To Our Favorite Snark Spewing Femme***

* * *

"Way to make a liar out of me." The yellow bot Lyre was currently admonishing just made a cute little whirling sound and tilted his head to the side in confusion; she didn't bother with explaining herself. "Thanks by the way, for saving me, I mean." How she knew that the bot she was currently standing next to was the very same Camaro from a few days ago was beyond her, but she did. She had gotten over her initial, and expected, '_freak out_' moment rather quickly, probably unhealthily quickly but whatever, and was currently chatting with, her now official favorite alien, Bumblebee. 'Course it was kinda hard to do considering the fact that he couldn't talk back but once she saw him '_lubricate_' on Simmons there was no going back, she just _**had**_ to be friends with the bot, communication problems be damned.

And he seemed to not mind the small femme chattering up at him with such a wide range of emotion at all; rather, he seemed to enjoy it, glancing down at her every few moments with the Cybertronian version of a smile. Her reaction, upon coming to a sudden, unplanned stop and having the roof of the vehicle she was riding in be torn off, was not quite what most would expect.

She did not scream, she did not cry, she did not faint, no, she stared for one very, _**very**_ long moment, let out a low whistle, and said, quite clearly and coherently, _'__**Holy shit**_.' Then she abruptly offered her hand to shake, which was difficult to do since she was still in handcuffs though she did manage to maneuver so that her hands were in front of her, and introduced herself to each and every one of the Autobots, being sure to mention that she was not with '_McCreepy_' in any way, shape, or form. Then she laughed 'til there were tears falling from her eyes when Bumblebee '_lubricated_' on Simmons and went to stand by his side, from which she had not moved since, and began talking animatedly up at him.

"How long have you guys been o-" She was abruptly cut off by the sounds of inbound vehicles and a shouted warning from one of the 'bots, she didn't really see which one, and she stood somewhat awkwardly as everyone sprang into sudden action, not knowing quite what to do with herself since she didn't want to presume to be accepted enough that they would want her with them. She brightened immediately when the transformed 'bee offered his open door and without an ounce of hesitation she plopped into the passenger seat and looked around and, despite the pressing situation outside, said the first thing that came to mind.

"Not bad, but I liked the style of your other model better."

* * *

***Some Time Later***

* * *

Lyre was pissed, that's _**Pissed**_ with a capitol '_P_'. There was an underlying level of satisfaction present but it was overpowered by her anger and her worry. Worry, because McCreepy's men had taken Bumblebee; anger, because McCreepy's men had taken _**Bumblebee**_. It didn't help that all her aches and pains seemed to have flared up; she had small lacerations from the glass being shattered when Optimus grabbed the car, a bruise from hitting her head on the car door when they spun out, and road burn from when 'bee had had to dump her out on the ground so he could save Sam and Mikaela from death or severe injury. "What'd they get you for?"

Her attention turned to the others on the 'copter with her when the conversation finally grabbed her attention. "I bought a car. Turned out to be an alien robot. Who knew?"

Her lips pursed when they turned to look at her expectantly. "You want the long or the short version?" They laughed, it was weak and half-hearted but it was still laughter, until they realized that she wasn't joking, then they stared. "Hmm, seeing as we don't know how long this is gonna take I think it's best that I give you the short version. Part of it is why I'm still in handcuffs even though they're not." She gestured towards the teens she'd come to know as Sam, a.k.a. _small and fuzzy and generally helpless_, and Mikaela, a.k.a. _the chick who helped her out of her handcuffs the first time around_. "Basically, I _Kangaroo Kicked_ McCreepy in the gut." And that was where the feeling of satisfaction came from, having finally hit the creepy asshole formally known as Simmons, a.k.a. McCreepy, as Lyre _**clearly**_ preferred to call him.

They continued to stare.

She laughed nervously and shifted under their gaze, feeling an upwelling of discomfort, she decided to elaborate just a _**bit**_ more. "You know how kangaroos kick, right? They brace their weight back on their tail and jut both feet out at their target; 'course technically they're trying to disembowel, not kick, their victims of choice. I don't have a tail but I _**did**_ have a guy holding my arms, and McCreepy was standing _**right**_ there in front of me, so I jerked around a little so that _Captor Guy_ would tighten his grip and then I jumped in the air and planted my feet, heels first, into McCreepy's stomach. Got a headache out of it, my skull made contact with my captor's chin, but it was _**so**_ worth it. It would have been more satisfying to break his nose though, I think. Oh well, too late now." It wasn't truly but without something openly provoking her, aside from his, ever present, creepy creeper-ness, she wouldn't really be justified and she wasn't particularly looking forward to the idea of imprisonment for assaulting a government agent.

No matter how much he deserved it.

"As for initially? Apparently the car I took shelter in several days ago, well, it was his car," She indicated Sam, "so I reiterate: _Turned out to be an alien robot_. _Who knew_?"

After that she just sort of… zoned out for a while again, coming to her senses long enough to stay as far away from the edge of the Hoover Dam as she could possibly manage, feeling that particular tingling, plummeting sensation in her stomach that she always got from being too close to open heights. That awareness was how she managed to recognize the second government agent talking to Sam. "Banachek, what a surprise to see you here, you don't usually show your face to the outside world. I'd shake your hand but your idiot coworker has me in cuffs."

"Nightingale, what are you doing here?" There was no denying his surprise at the sight of her, her second sentence seemed to fly right by him.

"Arrested for unknowingly coming into contact with an alien robot, that and getting into a fight with Simmons, personally I think the latter had more influence on things. 'Specially since I was winning. He seemed _**very**_ surprised by some of my knowledge by the way, am I not as well known in Sector Seven as I originally thought, or is he just particularly ignorant?"

He started at the word _arrested_, his eyes suddenly sweeping over her and taking in her pulled back arms, a scowl that did not bode well for McCreepy appeared on his face as he gestured for one of the many nameless grunts to release her. "Ignorance I hope, as idiocy is the only other option. You and Drake are very well known around headquarters, in fact I'd keep who you are a secret or else you might have scientists assaulting you with their questions and tests that they want to run on you."

She grinned as she rubbed her sore wrists and nodded her thanks, vaguely following the conversation as they made their way inside into a large chamber holding a being she'd known about for years. "So this is the abominable snowman… is anyone else picking up on the super freaky evil vibes just rolling off of him? …No? Just me, huh?" The last bit had been tacked on due to her annoyance at being completely ignored by absolutely _**everyone**_. She shivered, feeling as though his gaze was piercing right into her soul and watched the amusing scene of McCreepy attempting to assert his nonexistent superiority over Sam, who was displaying his obviously enhanced understanding of what all was going on. She caught the tail-end of the argument, feeling rather lost but not too altogether concerned.

"You guys know where it is, don't you?" And they were moving again, first to a small room with a viewing window looking out on the biggest, and oddly prettiest, cube she'd ever clapped eyes on and then to a slightly larger room she decidedly did _**not**_ like. It reminded her of a vault and the fact that the walls were covered with strange scratches didn't put her at ease, even the comments about them being from Wolverine could only cheer her up so much, though she voiced her agreement with Glen.

And got a dirty look from Simmons, who she somehow managed to unfortunately stand beside.

"That's very funny. Anybody have any mechanical devices? Blackberry? Key alarm? Cell phone?" She winced as he yelled practically in her ear and glared. In part to be obnoxious and in part because she wanted a new phone, Abigail wouldn't let her buy one until something definitive happened to the one she had currently, and she had a feeling that any object involved would not survive its first meeting with the _**Box-Of-Doom**_, it just gave off the sort of feel, she shoved her cell phone in before McCreepy could put Glen's in, giving him a cheeky grin for good measure.

She felt a cold horror when her phone suddenly burst into a living being, one that was trying desperately, _**violently**_, to escape.

* * *

Surprise.

…Confusion.

Anger.

**:_File End_:**

**:_Open Next File?_:**

**:No:**

Curiosity.

Slight suspicion.

**:Search; Project Mockingbird:**

**:_Search Denied_:**

**:_File Encrypted_:**

Anger flaring again.

**:Search; Banachek:**

**:_One Result(s)_:**

**:_Tom Banachek, Head Of Sector Seven's Advanced Research Division, Lyre's Handler_:**

**Useless.**

The consciousness drifted away once again.


	4. Of Passing Time and Fury

**So, here's the newest chapter! Yay! Um, thanks to those that alerted/favorited. Special thanks go out to **Autobot-Bre** for the review.**

* * *

**Project Mockingbird: v2.0**

**Chapter 4: Of Passing Time and Fury.**

* * *

The allotted week passed.

* * *

_The mission in Shanghai was initiated._

_Two Decepticons where revealed and neutralized._

_A name was uttered. _**The Fallen.**

_And a message passed on, a threat. "_The Fallen shall rise again._"_

_A trace of human blood, carrying a very specific genetic code, was discovered upon the careful scanning of the body of the one known as Sideways._

_It was identified as belonging to Lyre Ann Nightingale._

_No further information was obtained._

* * *

_Sam Witwicky packed for college._

_Discovered an Allspark fragment._

_Brought his kitchen to life._

_Lost his bedroom to a few well-placed plasma shots._

_Had a meltdown._

_Dealt with his mother having a meltdown._

_Avoided telling the girl who'd helped him save the world, whom he happened to be dating, that he loved her._

_Was unknowingly spied upon._

_Met his crazy, self-absorbed roommate._

_And dealt with his drugged up mom._

* * *

Slowly for Sunstreaker.

* * *

_The man known as Theodore Galloway had his very first physical interaction with Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots._

_A satellite was hacked._

_Top-secret information passed on._

_Ravage deployed._

_N.E.S.T. base infiltrated._

_The only remaining shard of the Allspark known about by the Human government, and thus the Decepticons, was stolen._

* * *

_The Witwicky boy failed to make his online date._

_Got picked up by Autobot Bumblebee._

_Met with Optimus._

_And refused to help on the basis that he was _**normal **_that he wanted to have a _**normal**_ life._

_Optimus watched him leave, knowing just how much the boy was needed._

* * *

And _**much**_ too fast for Lyre.

* * *

_Sam Witwicky, Mikaela Banes, and Leo Spitz were captured by the revived Megatron._

_The _**events**_ surrounding their liberation occurred._

* * *

At its end they were still right where they had started, though Lyre had made significant repairs –_He would likely never admit to it but she had done a good job, he had enough experience getting repaired to know._- and Sunstreaker had, unwillingly, developed a growing understanding of her. –_More than he wanted, that was for sure. Still… she was _**sort of**_ interesting, for an organic._- It was Ein's fault. All he'd wanted to know was what the femme had said when she first saw him, instead of answering Ein had transferred his memory files.

All of them.

Some were encrypted fully, some only had audio, some were only partially encrypted. At first he hadn't intended to open them at all. But there really wasn't anything for him to do, and… he became slightly curious. So he opened what he could.

Four days before their time was up, the leader of this particular group of Decepticons had returned and, angry with his gall, kicked Sideways out. The Human and Autobot were for the most part ignored after that, which was fine with Lyre. It allowed her to work on the dampener, which is what she called the object on Sunstreaker's hood; it was giving her more trouble than she'd been expecting.

Suddenly, after taking a break to sleep, she seemed to get it.

They were ready.

* * *

_Experience is a hard teacher because she gives the test first, the lesson afterward. –Vernon Law_

* * *

The consciousness was impatient, very impatient.

And irritated.

Always irritated.

**:_File Accessed_:**

**:_File Request Denied_:**

Anger.

**:_File Encrypted_:**

Fury.

…Hurt.

The consciousness, not quite complete, pinged.

A second consciousness, similar but different, joined with the first.

They received a message.

A code.

They hesitated, joined in their sense of betrayal and denial.

They entered the code.

**:_Access Code Accepted_:**

**:_Files Decrypting_:**

**:_1%_:**

**:_2%_:**

**:_3%_:**

**:_6%_:**

**:_13%_:**

**:_19%_:**

**:_32%_:**

**:_56%_:**

**:_83%_:**

**:_97%_:**

**:_98%_:**

**:_99%_:**

**:_100%_:**

**:_Files Decrypted_:**

**:_File Accessed_:**

**:_Open File?_:**

They replied in unison.

**:Yes:**

* * *

Lyre frowned deeply, ignoring the strange shock she'd felt from the hand touching the box, and turned to stare disbelievingly at Simmons. –_Was he _**mad**_? Bringing things to life without any kind of previous thought or consideration, playing at being some sort of god, they were insane, completely wacko._- Her eyes studied him intently, furiously, and his words barely registered, she ignored the little robot that was attempting to escape and the others' reactions to it, all her focus was on reading the person before her.

As she read the way his intent suddenly shifted, and her shock and horror turned quickly into that ever so familiar emotion, rage, she let out a growl and lunged, ripping the trigger control from his hands. Everyone turned at the sound of his startled yell and her incensed response, ignoring even the strange creature in favor of watching their interaction.

"Are you crazy? What do you think you're doing Girl?"

She gave an animalistic snarl, teeth bared in warning. "How dare you. How fucking _**dare**_ you! You think you can just bring it to life, show it off like some kind of prize, then _**kill**_ it? Do you value life at _**all**_? It's not like zapping a bug! It's _**sentient**_! Alive and thinking and feeling! You have no _**right**_ to kill it. The technology that brought it to life isn't yours, the phone it's formed from isn't yours, it's not under your jurisdiction, it's not even the same species as you! You have- _**Absolutely**_! _**No**_! _**Fucking**_! _**Right**_!" Then she turned her back on him, ignoring his shocked, stuttering response, her heart angry and yet filled with a strange sadness, the urge to cry nearly overwhelming her senses. For a moment she simply stared at the creature, taking it in, watching as it cracked the walls of its clear prison, its little red eyes angry. Her heart reached out to it, a feeling of understanding filling her.

Because she did understand. She did. The anger was something she understood, because she knew its anger was caused by its fear. Its feeling of helplessness. If there was _**anything**_ she could understand… it was that.

"_Command Prompt Mode: Initiate._

"_Command: File Search._

"_Search Language: English._

"_Command: File Download_." They were staring at her again, Lyre could feel it. She didn't care. She continued to speak to the small robot as it paused, joints stiffening and eyes flickering before returning to trying to escape. "_Behavior has been deemed unacceptable._

"_Command: Desist Immediately. Failure to comply will result in immediate termination._" And to the startlement of all but her, it did. The small, angry, frightened 'bot stopped, though it kept its weapons handy, and turned to face her with its still red eyes.

They stared at one another for what seemed to be a very long time.

Without shifting her gaze away from his, somehow it seemed to be a male, optics she reached out to the small door of the box, pausing with her fingertips just brushing against it. "You will stay with me or they will destroy you and as I am partial to keeping up my record of having never been shot, accidentally or otherwise, I will not attempt to stop them." And before any of the humans could really understand what it was that she intended to do she opened the door. There were shouts of surprise and alarm but she did not bat an eye as the small robot lunged for the opening and scuttled quickly up her arm to the place where shoulder met neck and settled there like a bird, back pressed to her flesh and optics roving in the three remaining open directions. With the being safely away from the box she dropped the control she'd relieved Simmons of and reversed until _**her **_back was to the wall, much like the 'bot had done, and allowed a grim, victorious smile to crawl across her face.

That was when the shouting _**really**_ started.

"What the hell man?"

"_**That thing is loose**_!"

"Are you crazy?"

"_**Shoot it**_! _**Shoot it**_!"

"What are you thinking?"

"_**Holy crap**_! _**Somebody shoot it**_!"

"What is wrong with you?"

"_**Why isn't anyone shooting it**_?"

And then rather collective variations of, "Shut up, Glen!" for his franticly frightened demands that it be destroyed.

Simmons stepped forwards, his face a mask of command and fury. "What you just did was extremely foolish and dangerous. Hand it over. We'll destroy it properly and maybe if you're lucky this slip up of yours can be overlooked."

Her face did not change, though a hand lifted protectively in front of the 'bot. "I don't think so."

"I said hand it over. That was an order."

She sneered at the demand, body language screaming her defiance with every fiber of her being. "You forget yourself. I don't work for you, Simmons. As I'm sure you've already learned quite painfully via _**reaming**_, I am not someone you can bury in the legal system with bogus charges, never to see the light of day. I hold too strong a position of power for that. Nor can you give me any kind of orders, for despite my particular position I do not actually work _**for**_ the government, thus I am not under your jurisdiction. _**You**_. _**Have**_. _**No**_. _**Authority**_. And on top of all that, he's not a threat to you."

The expression of incredulousness was rather hard to miss, she would have found it mildly amusing were the situation different. "Not a threat? Not a _**threat**_! What part of giant alien robots do you _**not**_ understand?"

"The part where he actually _**falls**_ under that category. He's neither giant nor alien. I mean, look at him!" Her hand pulled away so that the little 'bot was once more visible to everyone though it still hovered protectively, ready at any moment to cover him again. "He's tiny. Even though he _**looks**_ alien he was _**made**_ by humans, wrong and irresponsible though their actions were." She sent a rather pointed glare to Simmons and Banachek. "He's completely harmless, he doesn't want to hurt anyone."

"Did you see? Did you see what he did to the box?"

"Oh, and you expect me to believe that if you were to suddenly come into being, all of your cognitive abilities intact but not even the slightest idea about what is going on, to find yourself completely trapped and at the center of attention of several beings, that are many times larger than yourself, who are having varied but quite strong reactions to your presence that you wouldn't completely freak out and try to escape? 'Cause I don't know about you, but his reaction is about the same as mine would be. You know, if I have built in guns." There was a shuffling amongst them and some faces held guilty, though reluctant, understanding. She smiled grimly. "That's what I thought. As for being in contact with them, I'm sure that was your next point, right? I reiterate: _made by humans_. Even if he _**can**_ reach the others, which I kind of doubt he's able to without being given the proper frequencies, there's still the matter of there being _**two**_ separate, very different, factions operating on Earth at present. Warring factions. Since he has no clue what is going on it is highly unlikely that he'd just align himself to one side or the other without proper data on the situation. After all, he could easily contact a being that would destroy him without a second thought. Kind of like you assholes." Her voice darkened near the end of her little tirade, but then she smiled brightly. "But anywho, none of that matters at present. Banachek, I take full responsibilities for Ein, as a senior member of Project Mockingbird."

He nodded his acceptance after a brief moment of hesitation, and her smile widened even farther; no one paid any mind to the grumbling McCreepy. "If you're quite certain about this, then I will allow it, but you'd better hope that nothing happens."

"Of course, Ein will behave. Don't you trust me?" Her voice held a teasing lit and the others that knew her for more than a few minutes were quite relieved to hear her acting more like herself, the heavy seriousness seemed to dissipate with Banachek's allowance.

"Ein?" Although it was Sam who asked the question the others found themselves curious as well.

"Well, to tell you the truth, even though it was McCreepy who said it, calling him the '_itty bitty Energizer Bunny from Hell_' seemed rather appropriate, if a touch long. Unfortunately, it makes for a really crappy acronym too. So I decided to call him Ein, that's _E_-_**I**_-_N_, not _E_-_N_ or just _N_, for short." She shrugged her shoulders to show her nonchalance about the whole thing. "It worked for me. What do you think? Does the name Ein sound good to you?" The questions were directed to the mini 'bot pressed to the side of her neck and to her delight he made a sound of agreement. Her smile was so bright it seemed almost blinding and she pressed him closer to her for a brief hug. "Good to know! I'm Lyre by the way, Lyre Nightingale. Guess you and I shall be friends from now on. Heh, Abigail's gonna blow a gasket when she hears about this. I'm probably going to get another lecture about professionalism from her, can't say that I'm looking forward to _**that**_."

Before anyone could really respond to that, there was a sudden tremor in the very floor, and the lights flickered and swayed. There were muted sounds of alarm as the Secretary of Defense voiced what they all knew in their bones to be true. The Decepticons were here; they knew where the Cube was. Ignoring everything else that was going on, Lyre grabbed one of the nearby scientists and forced them to give her directions to the medical area.

She was met at the door by a rather matronly figure whose questions and concerns she completely ignored; she didn't have time to deal with it. "You need to put me on a breathing machine, now." She turned to the 'bot on her shoulder, they had quickly come to an understanding and were already rather attached to one another, and gave him a warning look. "You stay as close to me as you can manage, but hide, okay? I don't trust them not to grab you while I'm… preoccupied." Ein chittered a conformation and climbed from her shoulder and down behind a desk where he could be neither seen, nor reached.

She sighed heavily and walked to the nearest available cot, her hand went to a necklace she wore about her throat, undoing it and pulling a strange pendant off the chain. The pendant, much to the surprise of the rather confused medic that had followed her from the doorway, twisted apart into three flat disks about one and a half inches in diameter that were connected to each other by several thin wires. She placed two of the three disks to her temples, where they stayed without assistance, and paused with the third in hand. It was slightly different from the other two, which were completely flat, there was a small, rectangular protrusion on one of the faces which she popped open with her fingernail, revealing a rather unextraordinary on/off switch. She sighed and briskly flipped the switch to the 'on' position and returned the protective casing to its previous arrangement; she turned to the hovering nurse. "Under no circumstances are you to remove this device. Do you understand?"

The woman stared for one very long moment then slowly shook her head. "What's going on? What are you talking about?"

Lyre sighed again. "In just a moment I shall fall into an unexplainable coma and will cease to breathe. You needn't worry, everything will be alright, and I _**will**_ recover. But you absolutely _**must not**_ remove this device, if you do then things will go quite poorly and that's not something we can risk happening. Now then, here goes nothing." She inhaled deeply before placing the final disk at the base of her skull where it met with the spine.

Her body collapsed instantly, all tension left in her muscles completely gone, eyes rolled up in the back of her head, and, just as she said, body no longer drawing breath.

The poor medic freaked.

* * *

It would hurt, she knew it would. There were things left unrepaired, damages still unfixed. That knowledge didn't help. It didn't make the pain go away.

She screamed.

* * *

Tony Johnson and Lyre Nightingale had what could be loosely termed a rather strange working relationship. But then again, anything to do with Lyre Nightingale and Abigail Drake was strange. So that was probably why he found himself in her private workroom, staring at her robot form.

A casual observer would think the two hated one another, they certainly fought often enough, physically as well as verbally, to make it hard to believe otherwise, but they didn't, not really. There was rage, most assuredly, but that had nothing to do with how they felt and everything to do with how they acted. There was yelling and fighting and heated looks and chilly silences but it was how they did things, how they fed off of one another's energies. They were both poorly equipped to properly interact in social environments, Tony couldn't be a team player if it killed him and Lyre hurt too much to want to care, in a way they both could and couldn't relate to one another, and so they fought.

And so they communicated.

And so they cared.

Complicated and strange though it was, they cared.

Which was why Tony was in Lyre's workshop, staring at the missing scientist's most important project. It was in a half-finished state, parts removed, plating stripped. In her latest experiment Lyre had managed to cause a rock fall that had crushed the lower left leg, caused structural damage to the chest cavity, and caused severe stress to the inner workings of both arms as well as some simple superficial damage such as dents in the rest of the body. She was lucky she didn't have her head caved in.

Nobody was entirely sure about what would happen if the robot forms '_died_' while still being inhabited by the consciousness of the users, but it was collectively agreed upon that, whatever happened, it would not be a good thing by any stretch of the imagination. It was also collectively agreed upon that the reckless Lyre would be the first to demonstrate it, whatever it was.

How she'd managed to survive for four years behaving as she did was something of a base-wide mystery.

Tony was lost in his thoughts about the reckless woman and so he missed the subtle online-ing of robotic optics, but nothing could distract him enough for him to miss the sudden high-pitched shriek of pain, and the thrashing of a large metal body suffering from extreme agony. "Lyre? Lyre, where are you at? What's happening? Can you hear me?"

The screams stopped, but the body continued to convulse with pain for a few moments longer before growing alarmingly still, the only sound that of heavy venting. Then, exhausted optics turned to him, and a scratchy voice strained with urgency. "Lock down the base. Something's about to happen, something we can't go anywhere near."

He obeyed without thought.

* * *

**:_File End_:**

Shock, from both of them.

Hurt and confusion.

Then denial, a furious, fervent denial that rang out across their connection. Each feeding the emotion in the other.

**:_Access Next File?_:**

They didn't even register the prompt, so wrapped up were they in their own thoughts and feelings.

* * *

**So, to be clear, because I know it's confusing, the second part of the chapter happens **after**, but is **about **something that happens **before**, the first half of the chapter. All the chapters thus far are like this. I'm sure that you now know who is accessing the memory files but, if I'm doing it right, you shouldn't be able to tell why they feel the way they do about those memories.**

**Um, anywho… I hope you liked chapter 4 of Project Mockingbird.**

**Next chapter: Of Escapes and Aftermath.**

**Reviews are welcome! ^_^**


	5. Of Escapes and Aftermath

**Thanks to everyone who favorited/alerted.**

**Please review. Even if the only thing you type is "Update!" It still makes me happy. And I need happiness. Also, if you send me quotes that I can use in my story that would be awesome. Yep, yep.**

**Anywho, here's chapter five. Enjoy.**

* * *

**Project Mockingbird: v2.0**

**Chapter 5: Of Escapes and Aftermath.**

* * *

"Can't you go any faster? I thought you were an Autobot! Why the _**hell**_ are _**Human**_ cops catching up to us?" Sunstreaker really, _**really**_ wanted to dump her wining aft in the middle of the road.

But he still needed her. Or, really, he needed Ein, but he knew the sparkling wouldn't help if something happened to the femme. So he indirectly needed her.

"Ein, any luck contacting Optimus?" The young 'bot chimed a negative. "Damn. He must be on a mission. Try Ratchet. And don't you _**dare**_ send him my bio-data." Ein made a sound of confusion and denial, causing Lyre to scoff. "Please, don't insult me. I know for a _**fact**_ that you've been doing regular scans to monitor my health ever since I locked myself in my lab after that one argument with Tony." A rather unconvincing denial followed that statement. "Look, I'm not having this argument with you right now. Just call him."

It took only nanoseconds after the call went out for Ratchet to respond. Ein was in speaker phone mode. "Femme! Where the _**frag**_ have you been?"

She laughed, a knot somewhere in her chest releasing. "It's good to speak with you too McGrumpy. I'm great, thanks for asking." She was met with a very characteristic growl, she laughed again. "Hey, I'm sending you some scan data. I need you to confirm the ID for me. I have my suspicions but since the aft won't talk to me…" And she was not leading him to a NEST base without first getting confirmation that he really was an Autobot.

His shock was so great that she heard him vent in disbelief through the comm. "What in _**the Pit **_happened to Sunstreaker? Where'd you even get his scan data? _**Primus femme**_, where have you_** been**_?"

"I'm with him right now. We'v-"

"What do you mean you're with him? You mean-"

Annoyed by his interruption, she returned the favor. "Yes. I mean that Ein and I are sitting in his interior right now. We've just escaped from Decepticon captivity. Didn't Optimus tell you?"

There was a poignant pause. "…Yes, well, a lot has been happening, nothing you need to worry about. And he hadn't really gotten around to it…" Lyre sat up straighter in her seat, alarms shouting in her head. She recognized that tone of voice. That was the '_I'm keeping secrets from you for your own good_' voice.

She _**hated**_ that voice.

The fact that he had failed to immediately enquire about _**her**_ physical state after seeing the shape Sunstreaker was in meant that whatever it was, it was bad. "What kind of stuff?" She had slipped into her colder, more calculating mental state; when he didn't answer she prompted him again. "What kind of stuff, Ratchet?"

"Nothing you need to worry about."

"_**You're lying**_!" She felt panic rising in her throat, something bad, something _**really**_ bad, had happened. She was sure of it. Already a thousand different scenarios were running through her head.

Sunstreaker was… shocked. Someone was _**yelling**_ at _**Ratchet**_.

Someone was actually _**yelling**_ at _**the Hatchet**_.

"Damn it Ratchet! What's _**happened**_?"

He ignored her question all together this time. "Where are yo-"

The human was insane.

That was the only explanation.

She was completely and totally _**glitched**_.

Lyre had just hung up on _**Ratchet**_.

Mechs three times his size were afraid of Ratchet and she'd just. _**Hung**_. _**Up**_._** On**_. _**Him**_.

Her jaw was clenched tightly as she turned her blazing eyes on Ein. "Contact Ironhide."

"…-Femme? Where the frag have you been?" She didn't want to have this conversation again.

"Decepticons. Sunstreaker and I have, obviously, escaped. Ein should be sending you our coordinates now. We need an escort a.s.a.p. since I don't think they're going to be very happy with me if they catch us and Sunstreaker's not exactly in the best shape. I tried contacting Optimus, but Prime didn't respond. I assume he's on a mission and-"

"Optimus is dead."

Sunstreaker swerved, Lyre choked. "Wh-what?"

"Optimus. He- we were rescuing Sam from Megatron and-"

"_**What!**_"

"The Allspark shard we gave over into human custody was stolen. We suspect that it was what was used to revive Megatron."

Lyre's lips thinned in a scowl. "I told you that was a bad idea. I told you not to let the humans take care of something that important." Sunstreaker was confused, _she didn't think the humans could handle it?_ Shouldn't she be arrogantly confident in her own species? This insane femme was strange.

Ironhide ignored her statement, it was not the first time they'd had that particular discussion. "Megatron captured Sam and Mikaela, along with some other human male, and when we retrieved them… Optimus… Megatron killed Optimus."

"_**Primus…**_" Lyre had gone pale.

"…You're not far from our current location actually, I'm sending someone now." He was trying to change the subject, to distract her.

"…"

"…Femme?" There was a measure of alarm in Ironhide's voice that once again caused Sunstreaker to feel confusion, normally he wouldn't care enough to be confused but… he just couldn't shake the image of her hanging up on Ratchet out of his processer. He finally decided that she was only that brave because the mech wasn't actually present and this gave her a false sense of safety, and dismissed it.

There were more pressing matters to think about anyways.

"What? Oh, yes. Thank you." Her tone was much subdued, distant even. Ein released a worried chirp and climbed from Sunstreaker's dash into her lap, nuzzling against her. Lyre's hands moved automatically to comfort the sparkling, her mind a thousand miles away, analyzing every moment of her capture, trying to find where she could have done things differently. Where she could have done better, been quicker…

"-mme? Femme?" The sound of Ironhide's voice drew her from her downwards spiraling thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"I asked how you escaped." He was definitely trying to distract her now.

"Oh… _**Oh!**_ Right. Um, see, it's like this…"

* * *

***A little Over An Hour Ago***

* * *

They were extremely lucky, or maybe Primus just had an optic out for them. Whatever the reason, the new –_Or old, depending on how you looked at it._- leader of this group of Decepticons was an idiot.

Because, at the moment, there was only one Decepticon in the whole warehouse, and he wasn't even in the same room as them. It was a stupid move, but there's that saying '_You should never scold the enemy for their mistakes, simply take advantage of them._' So that's what they did.

"Ein, hand me that wire." A cheery chirp was her reply as he scurried to do as she asked. Sunstreaker was as repaired as she could get him given what tools and supplies were available; now Lyre was working on their insurance. "Ow! Son of a-" She was trying to anyways, so far she'd shocked herself five times. She squirmed in place, hissing air through her teeth and cradling her injured hand.

Sunstreaker found himself amused by her reactions and his frame shook slightly with his chuckles, to which Lyre would glare and mutter an almost pouting, '_Frag you, _**Aftwipe**_._' Which, of course, only served to amuse him even more.

In a weird way, at the back of her mind, Lyre kind of felt like they were bonding, as much as an aft like Sunshine _**could**_ bond with someone other than Sideswipe. Oh yeah, she'd taken to calling him Sunshine in her head, she'd refrained from doing it out loud though, she had no doubt that he'd vaporize her for it.

"Almost… got it… There! It's done." She was beaming with pride, in one hand she held her '_Shock_ _Box'_, a weaponized version of the dampener that had been giving her such trouble with Sunstreaker. The thing that kept him from moving. "Ein, sweet," She grinned viciously, "lure him in."

* * *

"-It was pretty simple after that. The 'con was a complete and total idiot. All I had to do was hide behind a box and have Ein play a recording of Ratchet yelling in Cybertronian. When he came by I tossed my Shock Box and _**bam**_! He freezes up; door still hanging open and everything. We left. Then I called you." She left out the part with Ratchet, she didn't think he'd appreciate it too much…

"You mean you called Ratchet, then me." He sounded… amused.

"How'd you-"

"He was not pleased. At all. I'm pretty sure everybot on base heard him cursing your little organic hide to the Pit." He chuckled. "He's still yelling, actually. If you want I can put him on…"

"_**No!**_ Uh… thanks but no thanks Ironhide." She winced. "Is… Abigail, is she…"

"She is not on base at the moment. …She has been most concerned. And has been spending an unnatural amount of time with Ratchet as a result. Voluntarily. You knew this would happen, I suspect."

Though he couldn't see it she nodded. "Yes. It makes sense for her to gravitate to the place on base where I spend most of my time, a coping mechanism to feel closer to me. She's been that way ever since…" A flash of movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention. "Hey, Ironhide? That Autobot you sent, silver, attractive, high end… kinda flashy?"

"That would be Sideswipe, yes." His tone was a mixture of amusement and annoyance. Sunstreaker felt relief flood his Spark at the nearness of his other half, and somewhere there was a smugness –_And amusement._- caused by the way she described Sides', but mostly relief.

The silver 'bot drew closer, 'til Sunstreaker's patched up close-range comm. could pick him up. {_Hey ya, Sunny! You look like slag._}

* * *

_Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh. – George Bernard Shaw_

* * *

They needed a distraction.

And they still had so many _**questions**_…

There was still a feeling of overwhelming _**hurt**_.

But they were_** worried**_.

And they needed a distraction…

**:_Access Next File?_:**

They were apprehensive.

Uncertain.

**:Yes.:**

* * *

Bumblebee was attempting to think about other things at the moment.

Other things that had nothing to do with the absolute agony he was feeling as his body was simultaneously frozen and electrocuted. Things like Sam, his new little human friend. The boy was strange, even 'Bee could tell that much, jumpy and uncertain and unconfident but with an astounding amount of determination and drive. It hadn't truly set in for the boy just yet, the fact that this was a war, 'Bee could tell, he'd seen enough warriors in battle to know; despite the fact that Sam had already been attacked by a Decepticon he still had an eagerness about him, the kind all newly recruited soldiers seemed to have before they got their first taste of _**true**_ battle, of the carnage and destruction that that entailed. It probably helped that everything seemed to be happening all at once.

Then there was the femme.

Not Sam's Michaela, but rather, the other femme, the one named Lyre. She was… odd. Odd in a way that was completely different from the way that Sam was odd. She was small, even for a human, but her delicate structure was overshadowed by the sense of power she exuded. It wasn't soothing like Optimus' power, his was strong and silent and simply _**there**_, for her it was a raw kind of power, it was churning and volatile and blatantly _**dangerous**_, he didn't even realize humans could emanate such things the way Cybertronians could. She had taken the appearance of the Autobots extremely well, better even than Sam; in fact, it seemed that she knew about them already. Not the Autobots specifically but she certainly seemed aware of Cybertronians.

Part of him momentarily wondered if she worked for these humans, the ones that were currently torturing him and had dared to take Sam and his family, but then he shook the thought away. He had a good feeling about her, had had it the moment he saw her slide around that corner and stare at him in shock, she was strong but fragile, angry but scared. There was something about her that he simply… liked. They would be good friends, given the opportunity, he could just tell.

Suddenly there was shouting and he wasn't being hurt anymore.

He brought out his cannon.

* * *

Pain.

_**Breathe**_.

Agony.

_**Don't scream**_.

The task of existing hurt.

_**Keep calm**_.

It hurt like nothing else.

_**Everything will be fine**_.

The only time she could remember hurting so badly had been…no, that was a different kind of hurt.

_**There was something important**_.

It had been the kind of hurt that had held on.

_**Something important she had to do**_.

Held on into the Forever.

_**If only she could remember**_.

And didn't let her go even in this painful oblivion.

_**It was something about**_…

And she was reminded of it afresh…

_**Something about**_…

Every time she heard…

_**About**_…

The silence.

_**What was it about**_?

There was something missing.

_**If only she could remember what it was about**_!

An absence of life.

_**Life**_?

She would give anything to have it back.

_**Preserving life**_?

She'd trade herself for it if she had to.

_**She had to preserve life**_.

But she couldn't.

_**Normally she'd fight for it**_.

It didn't work like that.

_**But this time that would make things worse**_.

She wished it did.

"_Lock down the base_. _Something's about to happen, something we__ can't go anywhere near_."

* * *

***The Day After***

* * *

Tony was _**furious**_.

He refused to accept Lyre's explanation, refused to even _**listen**_ to it. All he knew was that, by obeying her demand for a lockdown, they had missed their chance to do what it was that Project Mockingbird had been generated for. At least, what it had been _**officially**_ generated for. The reason the government allowed them to conduct this little experiment of theirs anyway.

To fight against the N.B.E.s, that was why he was involved.

That was why they were _**all**_ involved.

All except for Lyre and Abigail.

Mission City had been decimated and they hadn't lifted even a finger! What made it even worse in his mind was the fact that the Project Director actually _**agreed**_ with her judgment. Why? He just didn't understand it. He couldn't even yell at her for her decision, as she was still being held at some Sector Seven base and had pulled out of the Link as soon as she saw that he'd listened to her. Not that he could blame her for _**that**_; the infuriating women had created their artificial N.B.E. bodies to be built as close to the real thing, internally anyways, as possible, which included pain receptors. He half-way wondered if she had just passed out from the stress it put on her mind, the thought caused him to be concerned, but then he'd remember that he was still mad at her.

And he'd go back to pretending not to care.

* * *

Simmons had had a very _**bad**_ past two days and this-this-this… _**child**_ was a large part of it. Not Wickity, though that snot-nosed brat sure hadn't helped much. Lyre Ann Nightingale. Just thinking about her caused him to have a strong urge to go out and shoot the nearest living example of her namesake, if only to relieve some built up stress. But an action like that would be frowned upon and he already had the issue of some of his fellow agents whispering about his sanity, or lack thereof according to them, behind his back, he didn't need to add fuel to the fire. He just had to grit his teeth and bear it.

That's how it would have ended really, a few miserable days in his life that he could push to the back of his mind and not think about ever again. Maybe it would externalize itself as an aversion to certain avian specimens, or maybe he'd just yell at his subordinates for a while, but all-in-all it was something he'd get over. Given time.

Except he wasn't being given any time.

He wasn't allowed to be done dealing with her. What was worse: he had to be _**nice**_ to her. Him, nice to _**her**_. He wanted to wrap his fingers around her throat and just… wait. No that was a bad idea. That was one of those '_things that would be frowned upon_'. Damn. His only consolation, he supposed, was that she looked about as happy to deal with him as he was to deal with her.

Misery loves company, after all.

"So, let me get this straight. They thought that you, of all people, would be a good choice to smooth my ruffled feathers? Are they _**mental**_?" She shifted, leaning her chair back on its back two legs and planting her hiking-boot clad feet up on the interrogation-room style table. He felt something within him twitch, she smiled knowingly and that whatever-it-was twitched harder.

Okay, so no strangling, but maybe he could just get her back for kicking him in the gut? He could just shove the table really hard and… He focused on her appearance and what all he knew about her, trying to distract himself.

She was _**exactly**_ five feet tall; she had been for the past seven years he remembered from reading her file, the one Banachek had shoved at him a few hours ago. No existing family, but she had lived with the Drakes up 'til about a year ago, when she had gotten her own apartment.

She was twenty-three years old, even though she looked exactly as she had at nineteen. Her hair was dark brown, cropped _**just**_ long enough to put most of it up into a high ponytail, and had a tendency to fall into her eyes, although she had no defined bangs. Her eyes were also brown but they were lighter than her almost-black hair, having flecks of copper to soften them, not that it actually _**softened**_ them, in fact, the color's metallic nature gave her glares an extra bit of steeliness.

He'd noticed.

Her taste in shoe wear gave the illusion that she spent quite a lot of time outdoors but her skin belayed that, it looked as though it had never seen the light of the sun. Her blue jeans were baggy, not because they were a few sizes too big, apparently she got the urge to pants guys who wore that '_style_', but because she was simply too short and didn't bother with cuffing or hemming up the legs, she just let the fabric pool around her feet. Her choices in tops were equally unprofessional, t-shirts with various obnoxious sayings on them, today it was a simple white font on black fabric that read, "_Teller of untruths_,_ teller of untruths_,_ your trousers have combusted_!"

He wondered if she knew ahead of time that she'd be dealing with the government.

She seemed to have an aversion to make-up but a love of jewelry. She wore three rings on her right hand and one on her left, all but one with stones of varying shades of blue, her ears were pierced many times over, almost all were small loops with the very bottom being equally simple studs, she had a bracelet of dark green jade beads on her left wrist and a necklace with a small amethyst star. All her jewelry was set in silver, he wondered if that was significant.

Her fingernails were painted copper but it was chipped, she didn't care about keeping them in pristine condition. Her hands were small, just like the rest of her, and they, as well as the part of her arms closest to them, were marked with the occasional thin white scar or the thicker pink ones which were still fresh.

And she seemed to be _**addicted**_ to Altoids, he knew this because it seemed that every five minutes she'd pull the damn container out of her pocket and pop another one. If it weren't for the overwhelming smell of peppermint that hit him every time he'd be suspicious of the substance, as it was, he doubted he'd ever eat another mint again.

And the _**fidgeting**_!

Good _**God**_ the fidgeting.

It was like she couldn't sit still. If she'd been squirming he could accept it as her just being uncomfortable or whatever but she didn't squirm. She messed with the clasp on her bracelet.

It made a clicking noise.

Open. _**Click**_.

Close. _**Click**_.

Open. _**Click**_.

Close. _**Click**_.

Open. _**Click**_.

Close. _**Click**_.

_**Click**_.

_**Click**_.

_**Click**_.

_**Click.**_

_**Click**_.

_**Click**_.

He wanted to shoot her.

* * *

Ein liked his human. She was nice. To him at least. And she hated the human that wanted to kill him. He didn't like that human. And she was understanding. She knew his Command Prompt Mode functioned with English orders. But she still had him download the language. So that he could understand what he was being told to do.

She was nice. Ein liked her. After she woke up she told him what was going on. About the big robots like him. The good ones and the bad ones. He didn't like the bad ones. They would hurt her if they could.

He liked her. He didn't want anything to hurt her. And she protected him.

He owed her.

Not that she actually said that. It just made sense to him that way. And they were friends. She had told him that. Or at least. She said she wanted to be friends. He liked that idea. He wanted to help her. He like Lyre. She was nice.

To him at least.

* * *

**:_File End_:**

They had heard of Simmons.

That she drove him crazy amused them, one more than the other.

They wanted to go to the next file.

But something was calling them.

They'd open it later.

* * *

**Next time:**

* * *

**Project Mockingbird: v2.0**

**Chapter 6: Of Confrontations and Offers Of Fealty.**

* * *

"Galloway's here."

"Oh." Her tone was appalled and disgusted, she had never hated someone without meeting them as much as she hated the despicable excuse for a human being that was Theodore Galloway.

* * *

Someone was having a shouting match with Ratchet.

And they were winning.

It was definitely a strange day.


	6. Of Confrontations and Offers Of Fealty

**Yeah, sorry it's taken me so long to update, I've been working on my real-world writing, the stuff I want to actually publish.**

**Um, right. So… thanks to all those that favorited/alerted, and a special thanks to** Lovely Rain Dancer **for your kind words.**

**Anywho, without further ado, chapter six of Project: Mockingbird. Don't forget to drop a review!**

* * *

**Project Mockingbird: v2.0**

**Chapter 6: Of Confrontations and Offers Of Fealty.**

* * *

The base was in an uproar when they arrived, the arrival of two more high-end cars, no matter the fact that one looked like it had been dragged the whole way on its roof, garnered no more than the most cursory of glances. That the cars pulled into the hanger set aside for the Autobots was to be expected.

Lyre shifted uncomfortably in her seat, dreading what was to come. She was not a fool, and she was well aware of Ratchet's temper. He would not be pleased with her.

And she wasn't even done making him angry at her yet.

As Sunstreaker pulled into the hanger she searched for a familiar face, catching sight of her favorite noncom she indicated a stop and leaned out of a now opened door. "Epps! Hey, Epps!" Under other circumstances she might have laughed at the shocked expression on his face, instead she waved him closer. He approached at something that was not quite a run.

"Damn girl, you know how to make an entrance. There's a pool going on about how many individual pieces Ratchet in gonna rip you into." Normally this would have induced a snarky comment in retaliation, it didn't.

"I need you to get me to medical." She paused for emphasis. "Human medical. Please."

Taking in the urgency of her tone he reacted as any good military man would, with precision. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her swiftly in the requested direction, not stopping until he was able to hand her off to a proper doctor. Then he stood back and waited.

It wouldn't take long, he knew.

Any second now, Ratchet would come storming in like a hurricane, shouting at the top of his metal lungs. The embodiment of fury.

* * *

It was an accurate way to describe Ratchet's reaction when he learned that the human woman he had taken on as a patient two years ago had not stayed with Sunstreaker until they reached his care. Wrenches were thrown, threats were made, curses were uttered. The CMO was, in a word, pissed.

That he was already angry before hearing this did not bode well for the woman.

The two Autobots that were watching, as Sideswipe had not left his twin's side, were rather amused. It was rare to see the Hatchet so furious at anyone other than them and they were allowing it to keep their minds from less pleasant thoughts.

It was safe to say that the day was a strange one.

When Ratchet stormed from the medbay it was with the twins trailing at a safe distance behind him, intent on getting as much amusement as possible from the moment. That the damaged twin wished to see how the femme dealt with Ratchet in person was kept a private thought, even from his other half.

The two Autobots found themselves standing near a dark skinned human male with whom only the silver twin was familiar. The man had a wide grin on his face; he too was taking advantage of this moment of distraction. "Man, that girl sure knows how to make things interesting around here, probably drove her parents crazy. You guys are in for a treat." Then he fell silent, settling in to watch the coming battle. The golden one may have arrived with her but he doubted either Autobot had seen her in her element.

Lyre was a force to be reckoned with. Even when faced with the temperamental Autobot medic.

"Femme!" That Ratchet did not need to specify a name in order for everyone, human or Autobot, within hearing distance to know exactly who he was shouting at was a testament to his earlier fury. That he was stuck standing outside of a human sized door explained why he was shouting… and not carting Lyre's organic behind back to his medbay.

The humans within the room, having been unable to see him approach, all jumped in their respective places at his shout but only one grimaced afterwards. Lyre tried to ignore him but after the third exclamation she forced her attending physician to pause in his work and bring her to the door, though she had him stop before they exited, not wanting to put herself within grabbing range.

She took a deep breath. "What!"

"Don't give me that! Why the frag aren't you in my medbay?"

"You have a patient. Deal with him."

If possible, Ratchet became even more enraged. "Don't tell me what to do with my patients Femme!"

Lyre tried not to sigh, right now all she really wanted to do was get patched up, fed, and rested; she wasn't in the mood to have a shouting match with her grumpy sort-of colleague. "I'm not. I'm telling you what to do with mine." He did not react well to this statement, she rolled her eyes, interrupting the medic mid-rant. "Look, you saw the scans yourself, same as me. Sunstreaker is heavily damaged, I don't know how long my patches will hold. I had to do extensive repair work in not a lot of time with basic tools and nowhere near enough supplies. Until you can do proper repairs he's critical, which means you have two at-risk soldiers, him and, by extension, his twin." If her knowledge of their connection surprised them –_It did, she was just another organic after all, why would she have even a basic understanding of them? Though, Sunstreaker ought to have suspected at the very least._- the twins didn't show it. "That's not a risk you can take at the moment and you know it. You and I are the only beings on base that can perform even the most basic of repairs and I have my own injuries to see to at the moment-"

"Which is why you should be in my medbay where I can take care of-"

"Which is _**why**_ you should be doing your job and why I should be in here with the copious amount of human medics that can see to my _**non-critical**_ Human needs so that I can return to my job of helping you. You have a good grasp of human biology but lack a certain sense of… scale. You would put off Sunstreaker's injuries until after mine were seen to, due to the inherent fragility of humans in comparison to Cybertronians. That's unnecessary, so I circumnavigated the issue. You will see to Sunstreaker and I will receive medical help and once I am finished I will come to you, you will scan me, grumble with dissatisfaction, and proclaim me 'well enough'. I will then assist you in your repairs on Sunstreaker." That she had just accurately stated how he would likely react was enough to give Ratchet pause. It was enough, even, for him to actually analyze the argument she had presented to him and reluctantly proclaim it sound.

He grumbled. "You will come straight to the medbay after you're done?"

"I promise."

"If you don't I'll put you on bed rest for a month." Unseen to him, she smiled.

"I don't doubt it."

Taking that as the reassurance it was, Ratchet turned to go back to his medbay, glaring when he caught sight of the twins. "What are you doing out here! Did I say you could leave medical? Get your afts back where they belong!"

The poor newbies were in a state of shock.

Someone was having a shouting match with Ratchet.

Someone had _**won**_ in an argument with Ratchet.

Some little organic femme.

Against Ratchet.

And she _**won**_.

It was definitely a weird day.

This time Sunstreaker couldn't write off the anomaly as false bravery from the femme, some false sense of security. She knew exactly what she was doing.

And she won.

That was the part he really couldn't get over.

When it came to anything even remotely medical even Prime lost arguments to Ratchet. And this little organic femme had won.

Without him realizing it, Sunstreaker's respect for Lyre, which had developed (despite him) in the minuscule during the course of their captivity when he realized how useful and intelligent she actually was, grew. It would be some time before he realized this, but when he did it would not surprise him nearly as much as he felt it should have.

For the time being he would just focus of the fact that he finally had his twin back and that, unfortunately, he had repairs that needed to be made. That wasn't even taking into account what he was sure to _**look**_ like.

His poor paint job.

* * *

Epps was still hanging about outside of Medical when Lyre was finally released and so he ended up following alongside her as she headed out, giving her an update on what all she'd missed. "Oh, and Lyre…"

"Hmm?"

"You're gonna want to stay out of the command center."

Her response was puzzled but also relatively amused. "What? Why?"

"Just do it."

Significantly less amused, "Why?"

"Galloway's here."

"Oh." Her tone was appalled and disgusted, she had never hated someone (on principle) without meeting them as much as she hated the despicable excuse for a human being that was Theodore Galloway. "Right, thanks."

"Hey, no problem. Someone has to look after you, right?" He grinned down at her teasingly.

She responded with a coolly lifted eyebrow. "Was that a dig at me?" In response, all he did was laugh.

* * *

_I have learned to use the word impossible with the greatest caution. – Werner Braun_

* * *

They weren't feeling jealous.

They _**weren't**_.

It didn't matter what old Ironhide said, they weren't jealous.

Just because they felt irritated by her apparent closeness with _**Him**_ didn't mean they were jealous.

And what did Ironhide know, anyway?

They irritably shrugged off the older mech's amusement and turned their minds to the files of her life instead.

**:**_**Access Next File?**_**:**

**:Yes.:**

**:**_**File Accessed.**_**:**

**:**_**File Opened.**_**:**

* * *

***A Few Days After The Battle Of Mission City***

* * *

Optimus Prime and Ratchet were not quite sure what to make of the four humans standing before them. They had already met one of the females, albeit briefly, and so her downright enthusiastic response to their presence, while slightly offsetting, was not wholly unexpected. The blatant hatred from one of the males, however, was. In fact, the glare he was emitting brought to mind a saying that Optimus had heard from the humans, '_If looks could kill_…' it was odd that there was absolutely no fear in his eyes what-so-ever, such intense hate like his usually stemmed from fear. The other female's reaction was just as odd, because, unlike her companions, she revealed no emotion at all, only a calm professionalism. The only even remotely normal reaction of the bunch came from the oldest person of the group; he had gone into a state of shock and for a moment Ratchet was concerned that the man would pass out.

The enthusiastic female, Lyre, grabbed ahold of his arm and led him to a chair, speaking words of encouragement that only he and the two Autobots with their sensitive audio receptors could hear. Once the fifty-two year old, Mr. Drake, was settled she went back to standing beside the calm woman, Abigail, and exchanging dark looks with Tony, the angry male, behind Abigail's back.

Abigail, either oblivious to their actions or pretending to be, wasted no more time, instead coming straight to the point. "We have something that you need to see, as it relates to your bio-technology. We believe you have a right to know about it."

"Well, _**some**_ of us do." The angry Tony interjected in a scathing tone, he was ignored, though the Autobots were fully aware of his outburst.

Lyre tore her glare away from Tony and looked at the suddenly wary 'bots, a seriousness in her eyes. "We would prefer that you keep it just between you two. If you will allow us to explain ourselves and present our proposition I'm sure you'll understand why we want it that way."

Optimus responded, voice as regal as ever. "In that case, lead the way."

* * *

The Autobot Leader and Chief Medical Officer were stuck somewhere between alarm and admiration for what lay in front of them.

Three, near perfect, faux-Cybertronian bodies.

There was an instinctive, ingrained sense of horror and regret at seeing those young bodies lying, without a spark of life, on their large metal tables, the feeling only made that much more powerful by the fact that two of said bodies were femmes. Two so very rare femmes. Intellectually there was nothing to be distressed about, they weren't dead because they were never alive to begin with, but that knowledge only went so far in controlling their emotional distress. And even if they overcame that emotional problem, there was still the alarm stemming from the mere existence of those bodies.

Those human-made bodies.

Those human-made bodies that functioned as if they were Cybertronian.

"You _**built**_ these?" Only Optimus, who had spent many a century working, fighting, and living alongside him, recognized the shock in Ratchet's voice for what it was.

Lyre bristled angrily, hearing the shock but registering it as doubt instead. "Yes we did. Is that so hard to believe?"

"It's not so much unbelievable as it is extraordinary. Most humans cannot comprehend our make-up with any kind of clarity, nevertheless…" He ran yet another medical scan on the bots and felt just as surprised by the results as he was the first time. "Quite extraordinary."

One could almost _**see**_ her preen under his amazed tone, and her ruffled feathers settled back into place as she shot a mischievous smirk in the 'bot's direction. "That's not even the cool part." She turned to Abigail, still with that mischievous smirk scrawled across her face. "May I do the honors? Please?" Abigail hesitated for only the briefest moment before nodding her assent, a reaction the Autobots caught but decided they would contemplate at a later time, instead choosing to study Lyre's actions intently.

She grinned, moving energetically to the other side of the ridiculously large room where there were three human sized cots laid out in a way that mirrored the metal tables, next to each cot was a set of identical medical equipment, most notably, a breathing apparatus. She slid into a cot with practiced ease, quickly and efficiently attaching the equipment to her person. The oxygen mask was the last thing to go on before she removed her pendant and made it split into three disks.

Ein was curious, he knew what was happening, he had seen her do it before and she'd explained what occurred on the other end but he'd never _**seen**_ that part, and that curiosity got the best of him as he scuttled quickly onto her stomach for a better view. He was met with many a startled gaze, all present had heard of the incident involving the use of the Allspark's energy to create a being, and they had heard of her reaction, but they hadn't quite realized that that being was with her at the moment. She paused in her preparations to give Ein an encouraging pat, an action meant to tell everyone else that she knew he was there and that she was okay with that, she tossed in a threatening glare at them for good measure, warning them to lay off. She finished prepping and carefully placed the last disk in position. Optimus and Ratchet were alarmed to note that the human femme seemed to suddenly malfunction.

They were more alarmed to realize that the femme _**knew**_ she would malfunction.

A fact they realized when the machines at her side picked up where her body left off, taking up the slack.

There was a mechanical whirring behind them and they were astonished to see that one of the previously lifeless mechanical bodies was sitting up and grinning widely. "So, what do you think? Like I said, wasn't even the coolest part."

It was lucky, really, that neither of the 'bots were prone to malfunctioning due to shock, otherwise there would have been a problem; as it was, they came pretty close.

* * *

Lyre settled her back against the wall, an absent-minded expression on her face, and carefully, if mechanically, removed the medical equipment. She then proceeded to stretch and twist her body, causing various joints to sound off with pops and crackles, she ignored the medical aids that had appeared to monitor her health sometime while she was out, instead looking at the small bot that now stuck to her like glue.

She suddenly grinned and hauled herself out of the cot, ignoring the unhappy protests of the medics, scooped Ein up onto her shoulder, and headed to her personal workroom where she locked the door behind her. "Contact Abigail." Ein let out the cool chime she had learned meant agreement and conformation, and the relatively empty room filled with the sound of a ringing phone as she grabbed her toolbox and shuffled towards the robotic form that was now in its _**proper**_ place. There was always something she could make better and she hated having her other body resting anywhere other than her workroom, where someone could tinker with it without her permission, not that she'd ever give it. She allowed no one to work on her other body, not even Abigail.

"Yes?" The voice was as controlled as usual and Lyre couldn't help but smile faintly when she heard it.

"That went quite well, don't you think?" She released a quiet grunt at the end as she pried part of the paneling off of the right leg, exposing the more delicate wiring and circuitry of the ankle underneath, and began digging in almost gleefully.

There was a quiet snort that was quickly covered by her words, not that Lyre was paying enough attention to notice anyways. "I would have perhaps handled it a little differently, but overall I would say that, yes, that went quite well. I can see why you respect them."

She waved a hand airily over her shoulder, not that it could be seen by anyone other than Ein. "Not just respect, I genuinely like them. I have a good feeling about them. You could sense it too, couldn't you?"

Abigail's eyebrows lifted in surprise at the other end of the phone call, she was aware that Lyre felt that way, she'd always been quite good at reading her friend, unless she was intentionally lying of course, but the fact that she herself admitted such feelings _**aloud**_? Abigail allowed the Autobots to rise a bit in her esteem for making such a strong impression on her usually almost paranoid friend. The '_almost_' was kind of debatable, to be honest.

It seemed she was taking too long to answer because Lyre continued, her voice taking on a hint of nervousness she would not have shown with anyone else. "You agreed with my decision concerning Tony, right? It was the proper choice?"

"Yes, it was a wise decision." There were times when Lyre had to be reassured, much like a child, that she had done well. "He will remain on base, his contact with the Autobots as limited as possible. Maybe if he can learn to at least contain his hostilities, I will consider giving him another trial run."

"He's going to be even more angry with me." The quiet, tired statement was not really a question.

"He will." The conformation was unnecessary.

Lyre dug into her work with a bit more vigor.

"Has the incident with the information leak been solved?" It came out a snarl, and Lyre didn't need someone to tell her for her to realize that she was channeling her frustrations, she was just glad it was in a constructive direction for once.

She could hear the displeasure that leaked _**oh**_-_**so**_-_**slightly**_ into Abigail's voice, though she was still as cool as a block of ice. "Unfortunately, we've hit something of a roadblock."

Lyre sat back with a frustrated groan and pulled her hands away from the delicate mechanics she was tinkering with, the moment she dropped her tools her fingers began curling in, creating fists that quickly went white in the knuckles. "Don't tell me." The violent frustration and irritation that was in her voice felt almost _**tangible**_.

"What I've been able to trace leads me to suspect one of the governmental… aids as the culprit, though whether they're working alone or not is still an unknown."

Lyre openly laughed, bitter though it was. "I knew it was a bad idea to let the government have even the slightest hold on this project. Their little spies are more trouble than they're worth."

"Even Tony?"

Lyre looked sharply up at Ein, an expression of pain and uncertainty flickering in her eyes before they hardened into a sharp metallic glare. "…_**Especially**_ Tony."

* * *

Optimus replayed the incident in his possessor yet again, still completely astounded by all that he had seen and heard in such a short time. He had been able to tell that humans were a special breed of organic from the moment he met them, their species had a great amount of potential, but he could never imagine they were so ingenious, not so early in their species' development. His scanners were nowhere near as detailed as a medic's, but to him the bodies had been so very _**real**_.

And to see them _**move**_.

Primus.

It was only the lack of a Spark signature and the fact that there were slight discrepancies, he was only able to see them after an intentional Deep-Scan that went to the sub-atomic level, that allowed him to even _**begin**_ to believe that they were man-made. Even so, part of him felt that they had to have had help, it just seemed so impossible otherwise. But he knew, in his Spark he knew, that they told the truth.

Ratchet seemed to accept them rather quickly, perhaps it was due to the nature of his programming, to the grouchy CMO all beings that landed on his surgical table were the same: his patients. It left him rather open minded in such matters, although he was no less irritable about it than he was with anything else. The short-tempered old mech even seemed to like the femmes, not that they were able to tell, but Optimus had known the mech for a long time and he could tell. The giveaway had been when Ratchet had disapprovingly noted aloud that Lyre's armor was lighter and less abundant than it should have been.

Optimus chuckled, recalling her very arrogant response stating that the strength of her armor hardly _**mattered**_ if nothing was ever able to _**hit**_ her, it reminded him of a few Cybertronian younglings he'd encountered before. Memories of his former compatriots brought to his processer the small number of 'bots under his command here on this planet, which in turn brought the recent meeting back to mind. The femme had offered a deal, the conditions of which had been greatly surprising.

In exchange for battling side by side to defeat the Decepticons and helping with the government in any way they could, though they warned that not even humans of their standing could really overcome the evils of politics, all they asked was that their human origins be kept a secret from the other 'bots. This was so that they would be treated no differently than any other Autobot, a concern which Optimus could understand from an objective point of view, though knowing his subordinates as he did, he doubted it would really be a problem. They would be two different entities, the human and the cybertronian.

Only the medic, who would have undoubtedly noticed something was amiss the moment he started working on them, as he most likely would at one point, this being a war and all, and the leader, who it just seemed wrong to lie to, would know what they really were.

Abigail, while in her Cybertronian guise, would be Codebreaker.

Lyre would be Windfury.

And they would be Autobots.

* * *

**:**_**File End**_**:**

They felt a strange sense of pride.

The hurt was still there, and the previous irritation, but for the first time they really comprehended just what a monumental task she'd accomplished.

And a part of them couldn't help but be proud of her.

They hadn't forgiven her though, not yet.


End file.
